The hollow beneath the hill was still.
Not silent—but holding its breath.
After the battle, Lira had fallen into a light sleep beside the smoldering remains of our campfire. Her chest rose and fell slowly, her arms curled tight around herself as if warding off memories rather than cold. She didn't shiver. But she didn't dream, either. The Spiral Cult had burned too many of those away.
I hadn't slept.
Not because I couldn't.
But because the words of the Spiral Priest still echoed in my head.
"She burned and we followed. You carry her mark now."
Seluriel. The Moonbound Flame.
Until now, she had been myth. Echoes in stone. A name whispered by the insane. A celestial relic left behind in a cursed land.
But she had touched me—first in vision, then in resonance. And I had felt it: the familiarity, the loneliness, the heat that didn't burn but branded.
I stood up and approached the far side of the hollow. Moss-covered stone opened into a jagged cleft in the hill, veiled in roots and faint lunar lichen. I brushed the vines aside.
Beneath them—engraved into the stone—was a half-circle.
No… a crest.
A crescent moon, split down the middle, entwined with a spiral burning inward.
It pulsed.
Just once.
A heartbeat. Not mine. Not Lira's.
Hers.
[System Notice: Forgotten Sanctum Seal – Resonant Key Detected in Host (Moonbound Affinity: 42%)]
Access Status: Granted.
The stone rumbled, splitting open with a slow hiss of displaced air. Dust spilled out in a wave, followed by warmth that felt more like memory than temperature.
Behind me, Lira stirred.
"Isaac…?" she called, her voice dry but steady.
I turned. "It's open."
She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, then stood. "That… crest. I've seen it before. In dreams. Carved into glass. A woman stood beneath it. I think it was her."
We stood together before the opening.
It led down.
Black stone stairs curved out of sight, spiraling deeper into the earth. Pale vines draped along the walls like veins. Symbols shimmered faintly in the dark—spirals, crescents, and broken stars.
"You don't have to come," I told her.
But she shook her head. "I do."
We stepped into the darkness.
The descent was endless.
The walls pulsed with cold light. Not fire. Not mana. Memory.
"Let no flame fade alone."
The phrase repeated itself again and again—not carved, but woven into the very stone. Sometimes it shifted languages. Sometimes it whispered through the air.
Lira reached out to touch one of the sigils. It rippled like water and glowed brighter.
"The Flame is alive," she said quietly.
"No," I whispered. "She remembers."
At the bottom of the stairwell was a circular chamber—perfectly formed, perfectly preserved. Every inch of the room was carved with constellations in the shape of spiral suns and crescent moons.
In the center stood a statue.
A woman wrapped in fire.
She wasn't armored. She wasn't radiant.
She was tired.
Eyes downturned. One hand raised toward the stars, the other plunged into her own chest.
Seluriel.
The Moonbound Flame.
Her stone chest began to glow as we approached, revealing a crystal core that flickered between silver and crimson.
[System Alert: Moonkindled Core Detected – Compatible Hosts Present]
Split Resonance Option:• Soulbound Transfer (Isaac)• Moonlink Activation (Lira)
We stood side by side in silence.
Then Lira spoke, voice shaking: "She's been waiting… all this time. But not for one of us. For both."
I nodded.
Together, we reached out.
The crystal split.
Half surged into me—hot and sharp like fire being reborn. The other half flowed into her, soft and cold like light filtering through water.
Our souls trembled.
[Dual Flame Contract Formed – The Moonkindled Pact]
Affinity +28%New Passive Acquired: Moonbound Resilience I
Pain shot through me—then clarity.
A presence awakened within my chest.
Not a voice. Not a command.
A memory.
Seluriel's last act: to divide her fire, not destroy it. To share it.
I was not her heir. I was her answer.
And Lira was not a survivor.
She was her spark.