rders into the Southern Vale-a land cloak

p and silent. Magic felt different here-ol

et the tribal leader, Maela, whose own mark burn

ire is not the same as yours. It is the fi

the trees-silent watchers who see

ng," Maela said. "But the

of the Flame was shifting once again-this

came alive with whispered

a great bonfire in Maela's village. The

uardians who had once wielded the primal fi

t," she said. "But it is restless.

ng something different-an echo

rkness, figures cloaked in ash emerged-kee

"Then we must lis

rgotten were awaken