Chapter 60 Beneath The Rising Flame

• The sky was a muted canvas of ash and gold as dawn crept over the kingdom, spilling light like secrets through the shattered windows of the eastern spire. Kael stood at the highest point of the ruined castle, shoulders squared, hair tousled by the wind that smelled of salt and soot. The world below him lay quiet for the first time in moons. But the silence held a thousand promises—and a thousand ghosts.
• Elira emerged from the stairwell, her steps soft but certain. She wore no crown, no armor, just a thin cloak wrapped around her shoulders and the glow of someone who had survived every storm thrown her way. Her eyes met his, and Kael felt something inside him loosen—an ache, a tether, perhaps hope.
• "You’re up early," she said, drawing beside him, her voice hoarse with sleep.