The morning sun did not slip through the cabin window; it bled through the cracks in the shuttered wood, casting thin, grey streaks across the rough-hewn walls.
For the first time in years, Elara wasn't awakened by shouting guards.
No one kicked her door open.
No one demanded she start working before sunrise.
No one screamed her name.
The bed beneath her was warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
And so, for perhaps the first time in her life, Elara slept in.
Deeply.
Peacefully.
Completely unaware that the cabin was already awake.
Outside, the rhythmic thud of an axe struck wood in the freezing air.
Voices—only two voices—drifted through the valley.
The smell of breakfast lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the rot she had known for so long.
Still, Elara slept.
Until—
"VAELITH!"
A
