"She just vanished?!"
Karl winced as Mira's voice hit him from the side.
"She said she'd speak to the Elders," he replied, trying to sound calm even though his thoughts were anything but.
"And you let her walk off like that? What if she's a bounty hunter or a shapeshifting assassin or a—"
"She wasn't here to hurt me."
Karl looked down at his hand.
It was still faintly cold.
Back near the council hall, three Elders sat beneath the shrine's shade.
Liraen stood before them — tall, composed, her hawk perched behind her like a silent witness.
"He's untrained. Untested," Elder Haren said, frowning.
"Yes," Liraen replied.
"And still, the relics pulse when he draws near. The frost marks him. And…"
She hesitated.
"…the Soulbind in him is listening."
Elder Mareth, older than stone itself, spoke for the first time.
"You believe he's one of the Echo-Touched?"
Liraen's eyes narrowed.
"I believe he's something rarer."
Back near the well, Karl sat beside Mira on the old stone wall.
She tossed a pebble at his foot.
"So. What's the plan if you get summoned by the Elders and told to leave and train at some creepy distant academy in the middle of a war-torn forest with emotionally unstable teens and ancient dragons?"
Karl looked at her.
"…That was… oddly specific."
"I've read scrolls."
He didn't answer. He just looked up at the clouds.
Because deep down…
He knew.
Something had started.
And across the ridge — far beyond what Karl could see — a crimson-robed figure stood at the gates of a distant academy.
She opened her eyes slowly… and smiled.
"So it begins again."