He remembered the visions the Tree had shown him, his past life, the reincarnation, the fragment of power that had clung to his soul even through death. He had assumed it was divine blessing. But perhaps it had been something else entirely.
Something older.
The ground beneath him began to pulse again, cracks spreading outward in luminous veins. The echo's form flickered, its voice now fractured between rage and longing.
"The Flame stirs beneath this world once more. The Tree cannot contain it. And when it rises, all things bound by root and flesh will burn."
Lindarion's voice cut through the storm. "Then tell me how to stop it."
"You cannot stop what is meant to be reborn."
"Then I'll rewrite what's meant."
That earned a flicker, a faint smile in the shifting storm of light. "Defiance. Just like before."
Lindarion's brows furrowed. "Before?"
But before the echo could answer, the air split with a violent crack.
Reality folded inward.
