They left the river just before the sun crested the hills, the echoes of Marian's voice still tangled in Elira's chest. The forest didn't feel the same. Every root, every branch seemed to lean closer, as though listening now.
Back at the cabin, Ash stoked a small fire while Elira stood by the window, her arms crossed tightly.
"She said the Hollow Flame walks," Elira murmured. "It's not just a memory. It's someone."
Ash didn't look up. "Or something."
She turned. "You've heard of it before. Haven't you?"
He hesitated. "I don't know. I feel like I should. There's this… echo in my head, like I'm missing a piece of myself that used to scream when I heard that name."
She sat beside him. "What if we chose to forget? What if it was the only way to survive?"
Ash glanced at her then — eyes shadowed, softer than she'd ever seen them. "And what if we forgot each other, too?"
The question hung in the air.
She didn't know how to answer.
Instead, she said, "There's something else."
She reached into her satchel and pulled out Marian's journal. At the back, tucked between blank pages, she'd found a loose scrap of paper — no writing, just a symbol. A swirling flame, split down the center.
Ash leaned closer. "It's burned in."
"No ink," she confirmed. "Branded into the page."
He looked at her. "What do you think it means?"
"I think it's a mark. Something tied to the Hollow Flame. Maybe to us."
There was a moment of silence before Ash reached into his shirt and pulled out a thin chain. Hanging from it was a pendant — and when he turned it over, her breath caught.
The same symbol.
She looked at him, stunned. "Why didn't you show me this before?"
"I didn't know," he said. "I've worn it for years. But I never looked at the back."
Elira stared at the flame, split and eternal.
Something was changing.
The fire wasn't just burning around them anymore.
It was waking up inside them.