The morning Elowen left for training came too quietly.
No crisis.
No dramatic farewell.
Just a cool breeze drifting through the courtyard and the soft, steady sound of wolves beginning another ordinary day.
Lila stood beside the gate, hands folded tightly in front of her, watching Elowen adjust the straps on her satchel.
Inside it were carefully wrapped herbs, her journal, and a small wooden charm Lyra had insisted she take “for emergency bravery.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re not nervous,” Lila said gently.
“I’m not pretending,” Elowen replied. “I just don’t want to waste the feeling.”
Lila blinked. “Waste it?”
Elowen nodded. “Being nervous means I care.”
Lila smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “You always know how to say things I need
