The return was quieter than the departure.
No parade.
No formal announcement.
Just the steady sound of boots on the main path as Alden, Rowan, and the others came back through the southern gate at dusk, dust on their clothes and something deeper in their eyes.
Perspective.
Lyra spotted them first.
“ALDENNNN!” she shrieked, launching herself forward like a tiny missile of joy.
Alden barely had time to drop his pack before catching her.
“Storm queen,” he laughed, spinning once despite the exhaustion in his bones.
Elowen walked up slower, but her hug was tighter.
“You smell like three different forests,” she observed.
“Four,” Rowan corrected dryly. “One had very judgmental birds.”
Elowen nodded seriously. “Those are the worst kind.”
Lila reached Alden last.
She didn’t speak.
Sh
