Morning arrived with a soft wind that moved through the trees like a quiet promise. I woke before the sun rose fully, my eyes open as I listened to the slow sounds of the land. The camp from the gathering was still standing in the fields beyond the estate, and even in the early hour, there was movement. People rose from sleep, fires were fed, voices murmured low. It felt strange and new, like the world had stretched wider overnight and was still learning its new shape.
I sat up and took a deep breath. My body felt tired, but not weak. The kind of tired that came from effort, from meaning. I wrapped a simple cloak around my shoulders and stepped outside. The air was cool and clean. Dew clung to the grass, shining faintly in the early light.
Damien was already awake. He stood near the edge
