Aelin looked at the threshold of the gate. At the ancient, familiar stones, now caked in blood and gore. She sent a whisper of flame skittering over them. The last dregs of her power. When the fire vanished, the stones were again clean. New. As this city would be made anew, brought to greater heights, greater splendors. A beacon of learning and light once more. Rowan’s fingers tightened around hers, but she did not look at him as they crossed the threshold, passing through the gate. No, Aelin only looked at her people, smiling broadly and freely, as she entered Orynth, and they began to cheer,
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