The mountains of Kareth were unlike anything we had ever seen.
Peaks covered in mist, rivers running through gray rocks, and a wind that seemed to carry echoes of forgotten prayers.
We followed a narrow trail, and each step came with the distant sound of metallic bells — coming from somewhere above the clouds.
"Elara," I asked, breathless, "are you sure the village even exists? Because so far, it feels like we're climbing into nothing."
"Trust me," she replied. "Kareth is known as the village of eternal dawn."
"And that means…?"
"That the sun never fully rises. It stays stuck in the same spot on the horizon."
"Wonderful," I muttered. "The perfect place for people who enjoy being eternally sleepy."
Vespera laughed, adjusting her backpack. "At least it suits you."
Celine walked ahead, silent. The wind made her golden cloak sway, and every now and then she would stop to observe the sky.
"The energy of the flame is gathering here," she said. "Zephyron is close. Very close."
Liriel kept her eyes low. "Perhaps too close."
We reached the village when the sun seemed trapped in twilight — that moment between day and night that never ends.
The houses were simple, made of stone and wood, and the air smelled of burnt incense.
But something was wrong: the people moved slowly, repeating the same actions in silence — sweeping, lighting lanterns, closing windows — as if time wasn't moving forward.
"Doesn't look like the first time we've seen something like this," Elara said.
"Yes, but this is different," I replied. "They're not stuck in memories. They're stuck… in what comes next."
An old man saw us and approached.
"Travelers," he said with a hoarse voice, "you've arrived too late. Tomorrow no longer comes for us."
"Tomorrow?" I asked.
He pointed to the sky. "Seventy-seven years ago, the sun stopped there. Since then, we've lived the same late afternoon."
Celine looked around, attentive. "The final seal is here. Zephyron tried to stop his own return by freezing time in this place."
Liriel crossed her arms. "And failed."
The old man continued, "Every night, the light changes. And when it does, we hear voices from the top of the mountain. Those who remember the name of the fire."
"The name of the fire," I repeated. "Zephyron."
He simply nodded, like someone hearing an ancient prayer. "Climb to the sanctuary. Perhaps tomorrow is still waiting for someone."
We followed a steep path leading to the top of the mountain. With each turn, the wind grew colder and the sky paler.
Halfway up, we found rows of hanging bells — each with a name engraved on it.
Liriel touched one and shivered. "They're offerings. Each bell represents a memory someone tried to keep alive."
"And did it work?" I asked.
"For a while."
Celine looked at the bells that no longer swayed. "The weight of silence is the price of forgetting."
Vespera frowned. "Okay, this place officially wins the award for most depressing of the year."
"And we haven't even reached the sanctuary," I muttered.
The Sanctuary of Kareth was a circular structure, made of black stone and broken columns.
In the center, there was an altar with a floating crystal — and inside it, a flickering golden flame.
It was the first time we'd seen the original color of Zephyron's flame.
Celine approached slowly. "It's his core. The fragment that remained in balance."
"So that means… he's still fighting against the return?" I asked.
"Yes. But something — or someone — is forcing the opposite."
Before she could continue, the ground trembled. The columns shook, and a crack opened in the altar.
From within, a figure emerged — wrapped in golden fire and black shadows.
Zephyron.
But not as a memory — as a presence.
"You freed everything I sealed," he said, his voice echoing in a thousand directions. "Every fragment… every pain… every memory. Why?"
"Because the world needed to remember," I replied. "And so did you."
He laughed — a deep, weary sound. "Remembering is suffering."
"Forgetting is dying," Liriel retorted.
For a moment, the air split. The flames around him flickered, and a spark of humanity crossed his gaze.
"You don't understand… fire belongs to no one. It consumes, transforms, and in the end, only ash remains."
Celine stepped forward. "And yet, you chose to carry it. That makes you more human than any god."
The wind intensified. The flames expanded, enveloping the sanctuary.
I felt the same energy vibrate inside me — the blue flame burning, reacting to his presence.
"Takumi!" Elara shouted. "Your body—!"
I looked at my hands — the skin glowed with the same golden tone as the flame.
Zephyron watched me. "So it's you. The one who inherited the reflection of my fire."
"I didn't inherit it," I said. "You chose me."
"No," he corrected. "You reminded me."
The ground split. We were thrown backward, and the sanctuary filled with light.
For a moment, all I saw was fire — golden, blue, silver — all shades of memories mixing together.
And then, silence.
When I woke up, the sky over Kareth was clear.
The sun had finally risen.
The village below shone under the first morning in seventy-seven years.
Vespera was lying beside me, covered in soot. "Let me know when you decide to blow up the sun next time, please."
Liriel approached, exhausted but smiling. "We did it. Time is flowing again."
Celine, however, was looking at the ruined altar. "But the cost was high. The flame didn't disappear… it merged."
"Merged… with me," I murmured.
The golden glow still pulsed in my chest, mixed with the blue flame.
It didn't hurt, but I felt something new — a strange clarity, as if half of me thought in light.
"Is Zephyron gone?" I asked.
Celine answered slowly. "No. He is… inside. Sleeping. Waiting for the final choice."
"Choice?"
"Whether you release him… or carry him forever."
I looked at the horizon, where the sun finally touched the mountains.
"For now," I said, "I think he deserves to rest."
We descended the mountain at dusk.
The bells of Kareth rang in the wind, and the people wept — not out of fear, but relief.
Every face seemed more alive, every shadow lighter.
Elara looked at me. "You seem different."
"I feel different," I replied. "But I'm still me."
Vespera smiled. "Same idiot as always, just now in divine mode."
"Divine mode?" I asked.
"Yes. You glow, say deep things, and have existential crises. Just like the gods."
I laughed, tired. "Then I hope to stay human a little longer."
Liriel, behind us, wrote something down in silence. "The dawn has returned," she said. "But the true flame still sleeps."
Celine looked at the sky, her gaze distant. "And when it wakes… the world will decide if it wants to remember or forget."
That night, the group rested at the edge of the mountain.
The sky was full of stars, and the air smelled of incense and wet earth.
The flame inside me pulsed with a calm rhythm — alive, but peaceful.
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I heard a voice — familiar, serene.
"You did what I could not. Thank you."
I smiled, letting sleep take me.
Maybe Zephyron was still there, watching.
Or maybe it was just the echo of a flame that had finally learned to burn without destroying.