It was no larger than a kiola nut. Untended and mostly ashen. Few orange flecks remained. Only the faintest wisp of smoke spun upward from its center. The knights crouched closer, trying to shield it from now steadily thickening snow flurries. Their Order had not been heard from in years. One of the veterans gently nested the object in a bed of dry twigs. They were on a quest too important to rush. As the last of them returned with kindling, the knights gathered nearer around their site. One of them extended the flat of his hand towards the ember and began slowly, carefully fanning.

Fanning it into a glow.

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