You place the three relics on the altar.

The quill. The scales. The seed.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then the crystal shard above the altar flares with light, and the relics begin to glow. Silver, gold, green—the colors interweave, spiraling upward like a flame made of light.

The chamber fills with presence.

Three presences.

“You gathered us,” Seraphine’s voice echoes. “All three. No one has ever—”

“We knew someone would,” Aldric’s voice, hollow with centuries of guilt. “Eventually.”

“We hoped,” Thornwen’s voice, gentle as wind through leaves.

The light coalesces into three forms. Not fully solid—translucent, made of their respective colors—but there. Present. The founders, together for the first time in three hundred years.

Your allies gasp. Mira’s hand goes to her weapon. Theron drops to one knee. Wren simply smiles.

“The relics are pieces of us,” Seraphine explains. “Fragments of our power, hidden before Varek consumed the rest. But now that they’re together, we can speak as one.”

“And we have something to tell you,” Aldric adds. “Something we couldn’t share while the relics were separated.”

“A truth,” Thornwen says. “And a price.”

The three founders exchange glances. Even as ghosts, their connection is visible—three people who died together, bound by more than circumstance.

Seraphine speaks.

“When Varek performed the Binding of Souls, he tied our spirits to the gem. We fuel its power. We maintain its protection. But we’re also trapped. We can’t move on. We can’t find peace.”

“We’ve been screaming for three centuries,” Aldric says quietly.

“To defeat Varek, you need our help. Direct help—our power added to yours. But to give it…” Seraphine’s form flickers. “I have to be freed from the gem. My consciousness has to be released.”

“That sounds straightforward,” Neve says cautiously. “So what’s the price?”

Thornwen answers.

“The gem requires an anchor. A soul to maintain its existence. If Seraphine leaves, someone else must take her place.”

The words hang in the air.

“Someone would have to willingly enter the gem,” Seraphine continues. “Bind themselves to it forever. Watch over Eldermoor for eternity, unable to leave, unable to die.”

She meets your eyes.

“We’re asking someone to accept the fate we’ve been suffering for three hundred years.”