Born of Flames

Chapter 53 ~ The Dawning of an Age

    The changes Morana had anticipated did not come right away, but rather one at a time. The first was Arlon and Neeri's wedding, held only a month after their return to Arcan. It had taken place in the courtyard of the palace under the cool light of the autumn sun with frost sparkling on the cobblestones.

    Morana had never been more happy for her friends, and she had personally beseeched Oriana and Drenusha to bless the pair. From the number of boons Neeri found along her path to the ceremony, Morana guessed her request had been heard, and hopefully answered.

    The second change was the palace itself. The refugees tasked with rebuilding the palace had worked overtime ever since her and Tarion's return to the city, until the palace was almost completely restored. Morana had already ensured that each worker was well compensated, and had even offered them a permanent place as a member of their staff when she and Tarion lived in the palace.

    Several had accepted, while others politely declined, claiming they preferred to return to their own homes after their work was done now that the villages were safe once again. Gaelen had returned to Ophir and begun deconstruction on Astaroth's palace. The materials were being reused to rebuild other villages that had been waiting for repairs all this time.

    When work began on the dungeon level, Morana had returned to Ophir. She had taken every door, every shackle, and every chain made of Astaroth's vile magic and iron infused stone, and transported them into the doorless temple, to place in the Ash Wisp's care. Tarion's tomb had been sealed down there too, where he would never have to see it again, and no one would ever be able to reach it.

    Aside from that, Morana had kept herself busy traveling from village to village, helping restore everything Astaroth had destroyed. Everywhere she went, she was greeted by Fae and Humans on their knees, crying her name, reaching out to touch her, and beseeching her for Blessings. There were already a few temples in her name, the first having been built in the Gray Desert.

    She had visited it following its completion. It had been constructed over the ruins where she had battled Astaroth and been reborn, and the area around it was almost unrecognizable. New growth filled the desert's black sands, and several creatures had made their homes there. The desert was no longer a black mark of death, but a blooming symbol of life.

    Some people were even calling for the desert to be renamed, but Morana had yet to agree. Her people seemed determined to erase every memory of Astaroth, but she believed the Dark Age needed to be remembered to an extent. It was their history, as dark and terrible as it was, and she would rather her people remember it and never let it happen again, than allow them to forget it and risk a second Dark Age in the future.

    But their new Age had already been given a name, and she blushed every time she thought about it. People were calling this the Phoenix Age, and claiming it would last for milleniums. She could only hope they were right. She had no desire to leave this world any time soon, or to take Tarion from it before his time. There was still so much they wanted to do together, for themselves and for Asterria.

    And finally, the time for one of those dreams arrived.

•༻☽☾༺•

    The morning was cold, the sky a brilliant azure blue and frost hanging in the air with every breath Tarion released. A dusting of snow covered the expanse of Oriana's Pavilion and the ground around it. Even the rivers conjoined around the island were partially frozen, with only a faint gurgle to tell one that water still flowed beneath the smooth sheets of ice.

    Tarion stood within the gazebo, Morana at his side, and with many of their friends and subjects gathered on the island and the riverbanks around them. It had been centuries since the coronation of Asterria's last King and Queen, his parents, and all who could travel had been invited to witness this one.