The snow had begun to melt around the Mirrorchasm.
For the first time in centuries, spring dared to visit the north. Thin streams of water trickled down the cliffs, glinting under a pale sun. Wild grass pushed through frostbitten stone — fragile, but stubborn.
At the highest ridge, the six stood together.
No crown floated above them now.
Instead, each shard lived within them — pulsing faintly beneath skin, in breath and heartbeat.
Kael, once just a smith's apprentice turned flame-bearer, opened his palm. A small ember danced there — not to burn, but to warm.
"We ended a cycle," he said quietly. "But what begins now?"
Lira gazed across the thawing land.
"Rebuilding," she said. "Not cities. Trust."
Serin's wind swept a few petals of snow-flower toward the group. "They won't know what we did. Not fully," she murmured. "They'll see us as myths."
Corren's shadow darkened the ground for a moment, then faded. "Maybe that's better. Legends teach quietly."
Raeh stepped closer, her ember mark glowing softly against her temple. "And Vyrn?" she asked.
All eyes turned to the woman of frost standing at the cliff's edge.
Vyrn was silent, as always, her veil of silver ice drifting in the breeze.
Then, without turning, she spoke — voice like distant snowfall.
"The world forgot me once.But now… it remembers.I will walk it again. Not as vengeance, but as memory."
They stood together, six at the edge of an unknown future.
No throne.
No temple.
Only footsteps in the thawing snow.
Below, in valleys newly freed from frost, children gathered around village fires. Old storytellers traced six-pointed crowns in the air, their words painting visions of heroes not bound by rule, but by choice.
And far away, beyond what the eye could see, something older than flame or frost listened — the world's own quiet heart, beating a little stronger.
Night settled over the north.
The stars reflected in streams that had been frozen for lifetimes.
Kael breathed out, his emberstone glowing faintly.
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
Serin smiled, wind catching her hair.
"Tomorrow," she echoed.