The light didn’t fall this time.
It folded.
Like the world was tucking itself in, tired of fighting. The forest wasn’t burning or freezing — it was settling, sighing, becoming something softer.
I blinked, and the silver veins under the ground began to fade, replaced by roots. Living roots. The kind that hummed faintly when you touched them.
Thorn didn’t move at first. He just stood beside me, breathing like each inhale cost him something. His clothes were torn, his jaw bruised, but there was this flicker in his eyes — not fury or fear. Something close to wonder.
The child’s hand was gone. The moon was whole again.
And yet… I could still hear her voice. Not a command this time, not a curse. Just a whisper that sounded almost tired.
“Then build it right.”
I sank to my knees and press
