C59 Letters in Smoke

By morning, the chamber had returned to silence.

No more pulses. No voice from the flame. Only the quiet, like after a storm, when the leaves still drip and the ground breathes deep. But the words remained.

They carried them.

Tera paced near the basin as Malric transcribed every phrase the fire had spoken, writing with care on fire-treated parchment. “We have to send these,” he said