I stayed beside Elista, knees in the dirt, holding her wrists gently while her breathing stuttered in uneven waves. The clearing still felt wrong — like something in the air hadn’t left with the end of the ritual. The candles were still burning inward, flames leaning toward the empty center like metal pulled to a magnet that was no longer there.
Celeste’s chanting had stopped, but she didn’t look relieved or finished. She looked…braced. Like the ritual had ended before *she* ended it.
Elista stared past all of us, eyes wide and unblinking, as if something beyond the clearing still held her gaze hostage. There was no recognition left in her expression — not of me, not of the forest, not of her own name.
“Elista,” I whispered again. “You’re here. You made it back.”
Her lips moved, but no
