The days that followed were quieter.
Not silent—never that—but filled with a different kind of sound. The hush of wind weaving through ancient boughs. The crackle of shared firelight. The slow, steady rhythm of breathing when no one was running anymore.
The Hollow Lands accepted her now. No longer testing. No longer hiding. The paths once shrouded in shadow opened when she passed. Spirits that had lingered for centuries drifted at the edge of her sight—watching, curious, never afraid.
They knew her now.
And she was beginning to know herself.
Astren never left her side. Not out of fear or duty, but choice. They moved together, balanced as blade and flame, storm and ash. He didn’t ask for her time. He didn’t ask for answers. He simply gave her space to become.
And when the nights grew
