The days that followed blurred into one another.
They moved north through the dying woods, following the river that wound like a pale scar through the valley. The forest grew quieter the farther they went. No birds, no wind—only the steady rhythm of their footsteps and the whisper of water that no longer flowed.
Luna could feel it now—the weight of what had been released back at the temple. The air around them shimmered faintly at night, like invisible heat. Shadows moved where none should be, curling just beyond the light of their campfire.
Valois didn’t speak much. He walked ahead, every motion sharp and deliberate, as though movement itself kept the darkness at bay. But sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t looking, his shadow lagged behind him—slow, hesitant, like it no longer obeye
