Lyra stood in the farmhouse basement, where four generations of her family had faced the hunger.
The silver symbols on the floor had faded over the decades, but she could still feel their power—faint, patient, waiting. The void stirred inside her mother, warm and golden.
"I'm ready," Lyra said.
"You're sixteen."
"The Deepening doesn't care about age."
"The void cares. I care."
Kaela placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders.
"This isn't about the Deepening. It's about you. Do you want to carry the void?"
"I want to protect the people I love."
"That's not the same thing."
"It's the only thing that matters."
---
The void spoke to Kaela.
She is ready.
"She's a child."
She has not been a child since the Deepening first spoke to her.
"You're asking me to give her a burden she
