Part 1: A Place of Stillness
They found the lake at dusk, hidden by tangled brambles and whispering reeds, a quiet mirror of twilight sky and drifting ash. Pines circled it like dark sentinels, their needles catching the last glow of the Tree of Embers on the horizon, where it burned like a waiting promise.
The air smelled of damp moss and wind. The mist rising from the water curled around Aeris's ankles as he stepped to the edge, boots sinking into the wet earth, the ember inside him pulsing gently in rhythm with the rippling water.
Behind him, Liora's laughter broke the hush as she and Mira dipped into the shallow water, letting the cold bite their skin clean after days of dirt and sweat. They had stripped down to their shifts, water clinging to their hair like polished ink, pale arms reflecting moonlight as they moved, sending ripples across the lake's surface.
"Cold!" Liora squealed, splashing at Mira, who caught her wrist with a scolding laugh.
"You need to be quiet, or Evin will think you've drowned."
"He's busy with his broody sword," Liora said, sticking her tongue out.
Aeris glanced over his shoulder and caught Mira's eyes. She rolled them at Liora, then gave Aeris a tired, warm smile before turning back to gently wash the ash from Liora's hair, combing out the tangles with her fingers.
Aeris stepped back to give them space, letting their laughter and Mira's soft scolding drift behind him as he returned to the fire. He pulled out his worn journal, its leather cover soft from years of travel, flipping to a blank page. He let the ember's warmth flow through him, his hand steady as he wrote, the scratching of pen on paper a small, comforting sound against the hush of the lake.
The world feels still tonight, even as the Tree's glow reminds us of what waits. Liora's laughter is a thin thread of warmth, Mira's soft humming a balm for a heart that knows what is coming.
Evin is training again, as if the darkness can be cut away with enough practice. I do not know if I envy him, or if I pity him. Perhaps both.
The words felt heavy, but necessary. Aeris paused, looking up at the lake again, watching Mira and Liora floating in the shallows, hair spreading like ink across the water, the bell on Liora's hip chiming softly even here.
They were alive. For now, that was enough.
Part 2: Evin's Vigil
Farther from camp, Evin stood alone in the clearing where the earth was firm and the pine needles damp underfoot. The moonlight slipped between the branches, painting pale lines across the ground.
He had removed his cloak, stripped down to his shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, breath fogging in the cold air as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
High guard. Low guard. Sweep. Step. Breathe.
His blade cut through the air with a quiet hiss, the cold biting at his skin, the sweat on his brow chilling him further as he moved.
Pivot. Strike. Defend. Again.
The rhythm was all that held him together, the steel in his hands a tether to something real in a world filled with ash and shadow. Each movement was measured, precise, the forms burned into muscle and memory from childhood drills in the garrison yard with his older brother.
His brother…
Evin faltered, the blade dipping, a memory slicing through him:
The smell of smoke and burning wood, screams echoing in the streets, the glint of his brother's sword as he fell, protecting a family that wasn't even theirs, the promise they made under the collapsing gates.
Never again.
Never fail them again.
Evin's jaw tightened. He reset his stance, feeling the blood rushing in his veins, forcing the pain back into the rhythm.
Strike. Breathe. Turn.
His blade flashed in the dark, catching moonlight, his breath harsh and ragged, sweat dripping to the pine needles below.
And when he finally stopped, his arms trembling, he dropped to one knee, letting the sword rest point-down in the earth as he bowed his head, eyes closing, letting the silence of the forest settle around him.
A small breeze passed, cool and forgiving, bringing with it the soft sound of Mira and Liora's laughter by the lake, the quiet scratching of Aeris's pen, the crackle of the fire.
They are alive.
For now, that is enough.
Part 3: Lake Laughter and Embers
By the lake, Mira let herself sink into the cold, the water closing over her shoulders, the chill shocking her skin, but the dirt and weariness of travel washing away. She floated on her back, hair spreading out like a dark halo, eyes closed, breath calm.
Liora swam in circles around her, splashing occasionally, humming the song she always sang, half-forgotten words from a time before the Blight.
"Little lights, little lights, don't fade in the flame…" Liora sang, her voice clear in the cold night.
Mira opened her eyes, looking up at the mist-drenched sky, letting the song settle into her bones, a fragile warmth.
"Where did you learn that?" she asked.
Liora stopped, blinking water from her lashes, tilting her head. "I don't know. It's just… there. Like the bell."
She touched the small silver bell tied at her waist, the one that never left her, even in the water.
"It's pretty," Mira said softly.
"It's for the embers," Liora replied, swimming closer. "So they don't get lost."
Mira nodded, not sure she understood, but letting the words settle in the quiet between them.
They stayed in the water until their skin was numb, then Mira pulled Liora close, washing the last of the dirt from her hair, combing it out gently as Liora hummed the song again, the bell chiming softly with the movement.
When they stepped out, wrapped in cloaks, the world felt a little cleaner, a little lighter, even if just for tonight.
Part 4: Ember Reflections
Aeris looked up from his journal as Mira and Liora returned, hair wet, cheeks flushed from the cold, laughter lingering on their lips. Mira caught his gaze and smiled, tired but genuine, a spark of warmth in the cold night.
Liora settled by the fire, holding out her hands to the flames, the bell chiming softly as she moved.
"Did you write about us being pretty?" Liora teased, leaning over to peek at Aeris's journal.
Aeris closed it quickly, a small flush rising to his cheeks. "No."
"Liar," she giggled, pulling her cloak tighter around her.
Mira sat beside Liora, pulling her closer, wrapping the cloak around both of them. The warmth of the fire soaked into their bones as the mist rolled off the lake, the glow of the Tree of Embers casting faint, shifting shadows across their faces.
Evin returned then, his sword across his back, hair damp with sweat, a calmness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He nodded to Aeris before dropping to one knee beside Liora, ruffling her wet hair, earning a playful swat in return.
"All clear," he said softly.
"For now," Aeris replied.
Evin's eyes met his, and in that brief look, they understood each other: the readiness, the fear, the promise.
Part 5: Campfire Glow
They ate quietly, the thin stew warm, flavored with herbs Mira had found along the lake's edge, bits of wild onion floating alongside the last scraps of dried meat.
Liora's song, soft and almost shy now, filled the spaces between the crackle of the fire and the whisper of the wind.
"Where the fire falls on the leaves,
And the ashes dance like rain,
Where the whispers call us home again,
Little lights, little lights, don't fade in the flame…"
Mira joined in, her voice a low harmony, and for a moment, Aeris closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the fire, the softness of the voices, and the glow of the ember within him anchor him to this moment.
When the food was gone, Liora curled up beside Mira, drifting to sleep as Mira hummed the last lines of the song. Evin kept watch at the edge of the camp, his sword across his knees, eyes scanning the darkness.
Aeris pulled his journal back out, turning to a clean page, the ember within him pulsing softly, guiding his hand as he wrote:
Tonight, the world feels soft, despite the ash and the waiting dark. Liora's song is an ember of hope, Mira's voice a promise, Evin's silence a shield around us. I will carry this with me to the Tree, into whatever darkness waits there.
Because we are alive. And for now, that is enough.
Part 6: The Night's Breath
As the fire burned low, Aeris closed the journal, pressing it to his chest, the ember's warmth seeping into him, fighting back the cold of the night.
Evin stood at the edge of the camp, the blade in his hand reflecting the faint light, a silent promise in the dark.
Mira slept with Liora in her arms, the girl's small hands clutching the bell, its soft chime the last sound before sleep took them.
Above them, the stars were hidden by clouds, but the glow of the Tree of Embers was there, steady, waiting.
Aeris lay awake, listening to the wind through the trees, the breathing of his friends, the quiet pulse of the ember within him.
Tomorrow, he thought.
Tomorrow, we go to the Tree.
And in the hush of the night, the ember whispered back, warm and steady:
We are ready