Merlyn faces Freya, two glasses with bubbling liquid in his hands. “It took you long enough to find me,” Freya says sarcastically. Despite her edged tone, nerves simmer inside her. Freya walks to the small opening in the terrace that overlooks the village, distancing herself from the bloomed flower.
He raises an eyebrow at her and casually trails behind her to the ledge. “And it took you long enough to realize your powers have been returning,” he says with a slight smile on his lips.
Freya ponders this, her eyes staring out into the dark night. The mismatched cottages of the village below weave together until they reach the edge of the forest. Only the tree’s silhouettes are visible in the ebbing moonlight. She thinks of the growing fissure inside of her. The energy leaking out of it,
