The morning at the border was quiet, the sky holding a faint blue hue as the cold air settled over the land. Frost clung to the edges of the path, the last golden leaves of autumn scattered beneath the heavy iron gates. There was a stillness before the day’s first patrol, the world feeling both vast and full of possibility.
Sienna stood at the threshold, a small pack over her shoulder, her posture steady, her expression calm. Gone was the softness she once wore like a shield; in its place, a grace forged from heartbreak and reflection. She had stayed in the pack longer than she intended, out of duty, confusion, and even habit. But now, it was time to leave.
She watched the gates creak open, the world beyond waiting for her. The fresh air, the pine and earth scent, was a comfort, a final
