They woke to silence.
Real silence.
No pulsing veins. No echoing pressure in their skulls. Just cold breath and the settling creak of the glacier beneath them.
Carlisle sat up slowly, rubbing his temples. “I expected... more pain."
Vera adjusted her cloak, eyes still fixed on the dimming sigils beneath the altar. “Maybe pain isn't always the price."
He looked at her. “You're shivering."
“You're not."
He chuckled softly. “First time I've felt warm in years."
---
They stepped outside the chapel, into a dawn smeared with storm-light.
The wind no longer howled—it whispered.
Vera scanned the horizon. “They'll come back."
Carlisle nodded. “Let them. I've got nothing left they can steal."
“Not even power?"
He turned to her, serious. “The power I needed most... I gave away. Willingly
