The garden where the Celestial Spire once loomed had become a place of sacred quiet. Where once screams and magic echoed, now only the soft splash of water and the rustling of leaves stirred the silence. Kael stood before the phoenix fountain, his fingers brushing the smooth stone, as dawn’s first light bathed the garden in gold. This was peace—not the absence of struggle, but the presence of purpose. Three weeks had passed since the last of the anchors was destroyed. The Alliance Council had been rebuilt, no longer a group of bickering lords and puppets, but leaders who had fought beside their people. Kael entered the high chamber where banners of every realm hung side by side—marsh greens, mountain grays, ocean blues, desert reds. At the head stood the new High Table, fashioned from the remains of the void-cracked dais. Riven, arms crossed, leaned against a pillar. “They&rsq

The dawn broke cold and clear over the citadel, the first rays of sunlight glinting off the sharpening wings of newly arrived hawks—messenger birds from distant realms eager to join the alliance. Kael stood on the outer balcony of the Hall of Unity, Seraphina at his side, watching as couriers hurried across the courtyards, each bearing letters of gratitude, requests for aid, and dispatches from the frontiers. “Already, the new Order of Vigilance is active,” Seraphina observed, her eyes on the fluttering banners below. “They’ve set patrols along the old border roads and mapped void-tinged ley lines for containment.” Kael nodded, pleased. “And the caravan from the Ironwood Pass?” She drew a parchment from her belt. “Three days out. They carry supplies and recruits from the mountain clans.” A smile tugged at Kael’s lips. “Then it se

Dawn’s light warmed the Beacon of Unity as the last embers of the Hollow’s assault faded into memory. Kael stood upon the crystalline balcony, gazing across the courtyard where the citizens of every realm carried on with their morning rituals: merchants setting up stalls, farmers tending lantern-lit gardens, children chasing the slow dance of early sunbeams. The world had paused long enough to remember—and now it stirred, ready to live again. Seraphina joined him, her armor polished and her eyes clear. “They sing in the streets,” she said, voice soft with relief. “The Song of Remembrance is alive.” Kael nodded, a weight lifted but still hovering. “We drove back the Hollow, but it was our own doubt they exploited. Now we must build safeguards—foundations of memory strong enough that no void can unmake them.” She laid her hand on his arm. “How do we do that?

The first streaks of dawn found Kael in the high chamber of the Beacon of Unity, poring over new charts. The walls, once bare beyond the known world’s edge, now held dozens of annotated maps: coral atolls, sapphire straits, and distant archipelagos. The Festival of Horizons had unleashed curiosity, and exploration parties sailed weekly into the open seas. Yet Kael’s eyes rested on a new problem: gaps in the charts where nothing was recorded—and off those gaps, strange whirlpools of shifting color had been sighted. Beyond even the furthest islands lay vast swirls of sea and sky that defied navigation. And though none had vanished yet, rumors seeped back of ships returning hopelessly lost, their crews citing “dreaming tides” and “voices beneath the waves.” Seraphina slipped into the chamber behind him. She wore the mantle of the Warden of Worlds now: a cloak embroidered with every sigil of alliance, an

The dawn broke as if nothing had changed. Gulls called across the dunes. Fishermen hauled in nets heavy with silvery fish. Children ran laughing along the shore. Yet Seraphina stood apart, the weight of solitude pressing upon her chest like a stone. She had returned to the citadel’s Beacon of Unity and found it humming with life. The wards at the vessels’ docks were renewed, the Memory Halls open to a throng of visitors eager to learn of vanished threats. The Council met with cheer, oblivious to the one absence that haunted Seraphina’s every breath. Kael. The name lingered on her lips like a prayer. In the Hall of Unity, under the vaulted ceiling of living crystal, the council assembled for their morning deliberations. Seraphina slipped into her seat beside Riven and Jax. Bryna, Azhar of the desert caravans, and Naiva of the island republic greeted her with bright faces. “Sera