C62 The Ash That Grows

The fire in Hollowmere burned through the night.

Not large—contained in a stone circle worn smooth by memory—but its warmth reached far. The six villagers stayed through the dark, unmoving. Ember kept quiet vigil. Fen did not speak. He only watched the flames and listened to the wood shift like breath.

At dawn, the old man brought out a wrapped bundle.

It was cloth—dyed with soot