The ruins were quiet again, but the quiet had changed.
It wasn’t stillness—it was expectation.
Jane stood at the edge of what had once been the ceremonial hall, breath slowing, pulse beginning to steady.
Behind her, vines writhed back into the ground. Dust hung in the air like memory.
Rowan stood close, but not touching.
Dain checked the tree line, blade still in hand.
Nara wiped blood from her temple and turned toward the others. “They’ll be back—and next time, they’ll bring more than foot soldiers.”
Kira spat into the dirt. “We can’t hold this place. Not with Jane lit up like a beacon.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Jane said quietly.
“No one’s blaming you,” Rowan said quickly.
Dain tossed his blade from hand to hand. “Well, I am blaming something. Because that wasn’t a raid. That was a
