Miranda
She had waited long enough.
The silence around Zara was unnatural. Not the kind born of peace, but the hollow, choking quiet of forced stillness. Miranda felt it in her bones, in the magic that trembled beneath her skin. The ley lines around her were flickering now, unstable.
Sparkle’s latest potion had worked—too well.
But this time, Miranda wasn’t going to sit quietly and let it be.
She had tracked Sparkle’s scent through the ley echoes, following the ripple of suppression magic until it led her to the edge of the Weeping Glen, where even the trees leaned away from the corruption rooted there.
A place cursed by secrets—and sacrifice.
⸻
Miranda stepped into the clearing with purpose, her dark green cloak trailing behind her like a tide. Her silver hair was tightly braided
