The morning air in the town of Oakhaven smelled of damp earth and woodsmoke. A sharp, grounding scent that belonged to a world governed by gravity rather than magic. Elara stood on the porch of her new shop, a structure of rough-hewn pine that looked nothing like the gleaming spires of Draconia. She adjusted the apron around her waist, her fingers brushing against the fabric with a sense of wonder that never quite dulled.
Six months had passed since they had stepped out of the ink. Six months of predictable sunsets, of weeding the garden, and of watching Julian learn the intricacies of vegetable cultivation.
Julian emerged from the greenhouse, his hands stained with the dark, rich soil of their new home. He wasn't the King of Fire anymore. He was simply a man with a stubborn patch of h
