Chapter 60 – Quiet Flames
The temple slept beneath a blanket of blue light.
Moonlight poured through the carved arches, glinting off the restored stone and runes that pulsed faintly with living energy. The air was cool and dry, carrying the faint hum of the desert wind through the open halls.
John stood at the edge of one of the balconies, the city of dunes sprawling far beyond the horizon. Ember slept nearby in his small bear form, curled up beside a brazier whose embers still glowed from earlier that night.
For a long time, John said nothing. The silence was a luxury.
Then, a voice cut through it — calm and steady, with the weight of patience behind it.
"You're thinking too loud."
John almost smiled. "You're getting better at reading minds."
"No," Alaric replied, his tone laced with amusement. "You're getting worse at hiding your thoughts."
John leaned forward against the railing, the chill of the stone grounding him. "We've done well," he said quietly. "But it still feels like we're standing on sand that could shift any moment."
"Because you are," Alaric said. "That's what leadership is — standing still while everything around you moves."
John's eyes followed the horizon. "We've got two hundred and fifty lightning cores. Enough to trade for what we need. Enough to start something. But there's still so much we don't have."
"You have time," Alaric said. "And rhythm. That's what matters. Routine breeds strength. You'll train them, you'll fight more monsters, and you'll finish that potion tied to the cores. That will change everything."
John turned slightly, his voice low. "The one that helps us advance quickly?"
"Yes," Alaric said. "Once you refine it, it'll accelerate their growth. That's your next step. Then the potions that cleanses your light will be what you will push towards once you hit step 5."
The wind shifted, carrying a faint scent of incense and burning oil from the training fields below.
John exhaled slowly. "Feels like there's always a next step."
"That's the curse of the living," Alaric murmured. "The dead envy your exhaustion."
John's lips curved faintly. "Then I'll take that as a compliment."
A long silence passed between them. Ember stirred and let out a soft snore, the sound oddly comforting.
"Rest," Alaric said after a while. "Tomorrow will come whether you're ready or not."
John nodded. "Yeah… I know."
He turned away from the balcony, his boots silent against the stone, and slipped back into his room.
For the first time in weeks, sleep came without trying.
John woke to laughter.
For a moment, he thought he was dreaming again — the sound was too bright, too alive. But when he opened his eyes, sunlight had already spilled through the windows, and the air was filled with warmth and motion.
He pushed himself upright and blinked at the sight below.
In the courtyard, the Revenakian children were running in circles around Ember — who, much to their delight, had decided to be their mount for the morning. The little bear darted around like a silver streak, tail flicking as two children clung to his back, laughing uncontrollably.
"Traitor," John muttered, though the smile tugging at his mouth betrayed him.
Not far off, Blake and Mara were already at it again — sparring in the middle of the courtyard. Their blades collided in clean, rhythmic strikes that echoed across the walls. Sparks flew each time Blake's speed met Mara's strength.
On the temple's steps, Lysa watched the match with arms crossed, while Sera sat nearby, arranging a line of herbs on a cloth and murmuring a soft healing chant to infuse them with Light.
It wasn't chaos. It was life — rhythmic, steady, and strangely peaceful.
John leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching the scene for a moment longer. A flicker of something like pride stirred in his chest.
Maybe Alaric had been right. Maybe they already understood rhythm better than he gave them credit for.
"Good morning."
John turned at the familiar voice.
Rin was walking toward him, sunlight glinting off the faint green markings that ran along his arm — remnants of Revenak's old power. He carried a small cloth bundle under one arm.
"You're up early," John said.
Rin smiled faintly. "You're one to talk. I heard you pacing half the night."
John grunted, but didn't argue. "What's that?"
Rin lifted the bundle and opened it carefully. Inside were three different items, each wrapped in thin parchment. "The scouts found a few things growing near the oasis. Thought they might interest your alchemist's eye."
John crouched, examining the first — a cluster of flame-colored petals that shimmered faintly with heat. "Yellow Firewort. This is perfect for strengthening fire-type potions."
"The second," Rin said, holding out a small piece of ice-blue vegetation that somehow hadn't melted in the desert sun, "is a Frozen Tundra Lily Pad. We figured your frost-wielder might appreciate it."
John smiled. "Tamara will love that."
"And this," Rin said, pulling out a small glass vial containing a dark, swirling core. "A Step Five poison core. Thought your soldier might want something to play with."
"Blake's going to lose his mind," John said with a laugh. He looked up, meeting Rin's gaze. "Thank you. You didn't have to go looking for this."
Rin shrugged. "We didn't. The desert gives what it wants. Sometimes you just have to know where to look."
They stood in silence for a moment, the wind moving gently between them.
Finally, John said quietly, "I'm building something in the City of Sands. Something for all of us. For the Revenakians too. A place where we can grow stronger together — and be safe."
Rin's expression softened. "A refuge."
"A start," John corrected. "But it'll need both of us."
Rin nodded. "Then you'll have it. We'll keep working here. You build the city. We'll hold the desert."
John exhaled, a weight easing off his shoulders. "Good. Because we're leaving soon. When the sun hits its peak."
Rin raised an eyebrow. "Always in a hurry."
John smirked. "Standing still makes me nervous."
Rin laughed, shaking his head. "Then may the Light guide your impatience."
He started to turn, but paused. "And John—"
"Yeah?"
Rin smiled faintly. "It's good to see you leading."
John didn't answer. He just watched Rin walk back toward the temple's garden, where the Revenakians were already tending to new sprouts of luminous herbs pushing up through the sand.
The wind carried laughter and the faint roar of Ember chasing children across the courtyard.
John let the warmth of it settle inside him.
For a moment, he forgot about alchemy, missions, and plans.
For a moment, he just stood there and watched the world breathe.
When the sun reached the center of the sky, J-Crew would leave again — back to the city, back to the rhythm of work and battle. But for now, there was peace. And in that rare, quiet hour, John let himself enjoy it.