SCARLETT
The sun had barely climbed the horizon when we left the Mirror Vale behind. Shards of broken reflections still glittered in the folds of our cloaks, as if the Beast’s defeat refused to fade completely. Each crunch of gravel underfoot felt like a reminder that victory never came without echoes.
Kael walked beside me, his fire subdued to a soft amber glow. Darius followed, lightning dim but steady. Lucien’s shadows trailed like a living mist, never fully gone. The three of them were quiet, which in its own way was louder than battle.
I touched the mark on my shoulder. The silver crescent throbbed faintly less pain now, more pulse. “It’s calmer,” I said, breaking the silence.
Kael’s eyes met mine, warm as the morning sun. “For now. The shard is gone, but the Rift isn’t finished.”
