A hundred years later, strange signs stirred once more in the Ruin Abyss Well.
That night, with the Spring Equinox approaching, the lanterns of the Nine Provinces were lit as usual. Suddenly, the replica of the "Lamp Guarder's Heart" atop the Heart Lantern Tower began to tremble, its radiant flames surging upstream and piercing the heavens. A soundless ripple spread from the bottom of the well, passing through the veins of the earth and shaking mountains and rivers.
At the mouth of the Ruin Abyss Well, mist roiled as though boiling. Yet no firefly lights spilled out this time. Instead, wisps of flowing rivers of light slowly rose—not water, nor fire, but countless tiny motes of radiance, like stardust gathering into a current, like souls murmuring softly. They wound upward from deep beneath the earth, floated above the well's mouth, and gathered into the River of Lamp Shadows spanning the void.
There was no water in the river, only light.
Within the light, indistinct figures moved, soft whispers murmured, and the faces of Lamp Guarders from bygone days drifted past—some carrying lanterns on night patrols, some sitting quietly beside graves, some guiding lost souls through wind and snow. They had died, but had not faded away. In every moment they had spent lighting lanterns during their lives, their souls had silently merged into the channels of lantern light.
They were the source of the Lamp River.
The stone stele beside the well stirred without wind. A narrow crack opened in it, revealing an ancient inscription whose letters burned like flames:
"The lantern is the soul's boat; the flame is the heart's bridge.
Lamp Guarders shall at last reach Returning Light, their souls undying, joining the Lamp River,
To illuminate the darkness of the Nether Path for those who follow."
—"Firefolk