row cawed and fell silent, its cry swallowed by a rising hum that vibrated just beneath the earth. Liora jolted awake in Master Dalen's cottage, her heart racing and the mark on her pal

was triggered by your contact with the arch. These aren't invaders-they're echoes. Guardians corrupted by time, awakened by your presence." Liora's mark blazed. "They're connected to the Flameborn?" "To the Flame," Dalen corrected. "They were protectors once. Now twisted by what lies beyond the Ember Veil." "Then send me," Liora said. "Let me face them." Kael turned sharply. "You're not ready." "I don't care." She lifted her hand, and fire swirled in her palm like a living ribbon. A scream split the air as one of the spectral warriors broke through the barrier. It struck a villager-turning them to ash on contact. "No more," Liora whispered. She stepped forward, the flames dancing up her arm as she walked beyond the warded threshold. The lead specter turned, hollow eyes locking with hers. It raised a burning halberd-then hesitated. It knelt. The others stopped in their tracks. One by one, they followed suit. Kael and Dalen stared, stunned. "They... recognize you," Kael said. Liora's voice shook. "Because I carry the last of the Flame." And as the light of dawn finally broke over the village, the apparitions faded like smoke in wind-leaving only scorch marks and silence behind. But far beyond the woods, past the breach that had not yet closed, darker eyes had seen. And they would come next. The aftermath was a silent reckoning. As the ash settled and the veil of night slowly lifted, villagers began to emerge from their s