The Everkindle Pavilion was quiet.
Too quiet.
Gone were the synchronized chants, the mirrored flames.
The courtyard once filled with glowing circles now sat empty.
Even the forges had dimmed.
Only Kasai remained.
He walked alone through his own design—perfect glass corridors that reflected his face a thousand times.
And for the first time in months, he looked into his own flame…
And didn't know what it was for.
His followers were leaving.
Not with anger.
Not with defiance.
With doubt.
And doubt, he knew, was deadlier than any blade.
A young girl—once his first student—had stepped away two nights ago.
She had said:
"You helped me find stability."
"But now I want to find direction."
And her flame had changed.
Not with force.
With feeling.
Kasai returned to the inner sanctum.
There, on the floor of memoryglass, the central core of Everkindle still burned.
Dimmer.
But stable.
Connected to hundreds of minor sparks still active across the provinces.
He could pull them all back.
Force re-synchronization.
Stabilize the network.
Reassure his disciples they were never meant to choose alone.
But—
That would make him the cage he claimed to free them from.
He closed his eyes.
"They followed me because I sounded like Xu Shen."
"But I never listened like he did."
Then, a voice behind him.
Quiet. Steady.
"You still can."
Wei Lin stepped into the chamber.
No saber.
No threat.
Just a boy carrying a flame that danced without command.
Kasai didn't move.
"Did you come to gloat?"
Wei shook his head.
"I came to see if your flame can survive without followers."
Kasai looked down.
The core flame pulsed once.
Then again.
Then slowly began to flicker—erratic.
Uncertain.
He reached toward it.
Paused.
Then whispered:
"Let them go."
And the control web—hundreds of silver threads connecting to distant Everkindle branches—
Snapped.
Across the provinces, Everkindle flames blinked.
Then reignited.
Each one a little different.
Some wavered.
Some pulsed warm.
Some—surprisingly—danced.
Kasai turned to Wei.
"What happens now?"
Wei smiled.
"Now you get to ask the question you never let them ask."
"Why do I burn?"
Kasai nodded once.
And for the first time, lit a flame that wasn't mirrored, shaped, or imposed.
It was small.
Soft.
Unsteady.
But his.