**Chapter 32: The First to Return**

**Chapter 32: The First to Return**

Jack stood before the elders, the Heartstone still hovering above his palm, pulsing with the fire of Eldrin. The air inside the tent was thick with unspoken words, the weight of history pressing down on everyone present.

The elder woman, her silver-streaked hair catching the flickering light, studied Jack carefully. "You claim the fire has returned," she said. "But the fire alone is not enough. We have lived without Eldrin for generations. What proof do we have that returning is anything but a fool's errand?"

Jack tightened his grip on the Heartstone, feeling its warmth radiate through his skin. "Because I'm standing here," he said. "Because I fought to bring it back. And because it wasn't just me who did it. The fire chose me, but Eldrin chose all of us."

The murmurs around the tent grew louder. The other elders exchanged glances, some wary, some hopeful. Jack could see the uncertainty in their eyes—**they wanted to believe, but they had been let down before.**

Shadow let out a low whine beside him, as if sensing Jack's frustration. He placed a steadying hand on the wolf-dog's back, grounding himself. He had faced monsters, the darkness of the Veilborn, the trials of the Keepers. This was different. **This was convincing people to hope again.**

The elder woman exhaled slowly. "Words are wind, traveler. If what you say is true, then show us. Take us to Eldrin."

Jack nodded. "I was going to."

The elder gestured to the tall man who had led Jack here. "Marik will gather those willing to travel." She turned back to Jack, her gaze sharp. "But understand this—if you speak falsehoods, if you lead us to nothing but ruins, we will not follow you further."

Jack met her stare without flinching. "Then you have nothing to worry about."

The next morning, Jack stood at the edge of the settlement as people gathered. There weren't many—**two dozen at most.** Some carried what little belongings they had, while others only had the clothes on their backs. Marik stood at the front, his rusted spear slung across his back. His expression was unreadable.

Jack scanned the crowd, feeling the weight of their expectation. **This was the first step.**

Shadow barked once, urging them forward. Jack nodded. "Alright. Let's go home."

The journey back to Eldrin was not an easy one. The Ashen Wastes stretched far and wide, the land scarred by time and the remnants of old battles. The wind howled through the rock formations, carrying with it whispers of the past. Jack walked with purpose, leading the group forward, but he could sense their hesitation.

As the hours passed, the murmurs among the travelers grew louder. Jack caught fragments of conversation—words of doubt, uncertainty, fear. **What if Eldrin was still just ruins? What if they were leaving behind the only life they had ever known for nothing?**

Jack clenched his jaw. He understood their fears. But he also knew they couldn't let them dictate their future.

That night, they camped near a shallow ravine, where remnants of an old stone bridge lay in pieces. Jack sat by the fire, watching the embers flicker. Marik approached, his expression unreadable.

"You really believe Eldrin is still waiting for us?" he asked.

Jack met his gaze. "I don't believe. I **know.**"

Marik studied him for a moment before sitting down. "I was a boy when my grandfather spoke of Eldrin," he admitted. "He said it was a city of light, a place where the fire never died." He let out a breath. "I don't know if I can believe in something I've never seen."

Jack tossed a small twig into the fire. "That's the thing about faith," he said. "You don't see it first. You choose to step forward, and then the path reveals itself."

Marik was quiet for a long time. Then, finally, he nodded. "We'll see soon enough."

The next day, as they crested the final ridge before Eldrin, Jack felt his heart pound. He turned to face the group, their eyes filled with exhaustion, expectation, and fear.

"Look," he said, pointing ahead.

Gasps filled the air. **Eldrin stood before them—alive.**

Golden flames flickered in the distance, lining the streets, climbing the towers, filling the city with warmth. The ancient bridges had repaired themselves, the great walls standing tall against the horizon. **The city was no longer dead.**

A woman in the group clutched her chest, eyes wide. "It's real," she whispered. "It's really real."

Marik took a shaky breath. "Grandfather was right."

Jack turned back to them, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "Welcome home."

As they took their first steps toward Eldrin, Jack knew this was just the beginning. The first to return—but not the last.

**To be continued…**