The forest fell silent.
Mai stood alone at the edge of the cliffs, her orange aura reduced to faint embers. Blood stained her knuckles. Behind her, Duncan and Tiffany lay unconscious near the remains of the Aqua command post.
She felt empty.
She had given herself to the Ixora, and all it left behind was silence.
Her eyes turned eastward.
Toward the mountain she had only seen in visions.
Toward the place Yamura once called "the edge of fate."
The Temple of the Dragon.
It took her two days.
Climbing alone.
No words. No food. Only bitter wind and a growing sense of purpose.
The path curved along jagged cliffs until it ended before a stone gate — cracked, ancient, marked with the emblem of four petals: red, yellow, blue... and dragon-pink.
Mai stepped through.
Inside, the walls were covered in faded murals — warriors holding flowers, dragons made of fire, blood-colored rivers.
At the center of the main hall sat a single figure.
Cross-legged.
Eyes closed.
Sōren.
His beard was snow-white, draping to his lap. His robe was a patchwork of red, purple, and gold. His hands rested atop a scroll sealed with wax.
He did not open his eyes.
"I felt you coming," he said.
Mai stepped forward. "You know who I am?"
"I knew your mother. Elena. I helped her awaken the rose."
Mai's throat tightened.
Sōren opened his eyes.
Warm. Brown. Endless.
"I know why you're here. The Ixora is failing you. You seek something older."
Mai whispered, "I don't know who I am anymore."
"You were never meant to know," he said. "You were meant to become."
He lifted the scroll.
"Four flowers were born in the Time of Origins. The red rose—emotion. The yellow sunflower—ego. The blue marigold—wrath. The violet—compassion."
He paused.
"And the fifth. The one I sealed."
He stood up slowly.
"The Dragon Rose. Born not of feeling, but balance—the convergence of all four."
Mai trembled.
"You kept it hidden?"
"I feared it. It has no anchor. It consumes the bearer."
She looked down. "I've already been consumed."
Sōren approached her, his steps soft. "Not yet."
He placed the scroll in her hands. "Inside, you will find the ritual. But the Dragon does not give easily. You must give up the final part of yourself."
Mai whispered, "What is that?"
Sōren looked at her gently.
"Your vengeance."
She shook her head. "Then I'll die."
"No," he said. "Then you'll live."
That night, beneath the cherry tree
She sat alone under the temple's ancient blossoms.
The petals fell slowly.
She unsealed the scroll.
The symbols inside pulsed faintly with red and gold.
From the stone nearby, Sōren watched her.
Then... smiled.
And closed his eyes one last time.
He did not move again.
To be continued...
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