Chapter 89 – The Journey Eastward

• The dawn over the desert broke like molten glass — clear, endless, and edged with gold.
• A faint wind stirred the dunes, carrying the lingering warmth of the First Flame. Its light no longer burned at the heart of the temple, yet its echo remained — alive in every grain of sand, in every breath drawn by those who had witnessed it.
• Lucia stood at the camp’s edge, her cloak brushing the sand. The world felt different — sharper, cleaner, and humming beneath her skin. The Flame had changed her, not in body, but in resonance. She could feel the pull of the next one, like a pulse in the horizon.