Elder Moraz hadn’t been seen in weeks. Most thought she was on one of her soul journeys in the mountains, but I had my suspicions and a wild hope she was still in the old garden cottage just past the training grounds.
The door was open.
Of course it was.
Moraz never believed in closed doors.
“Secrets fester in the dark,” she once told me.
“Let the light in, child. Always.”
I stepped inside.
The scent of herbs and smoke hung thick in the air. Dried bundles of lavender and sage dangled from the ceiling, their fragrances mingling with the earthy aroma of the thick, green concoction simmering in a copper bowl before her.
And there she was.....sitting cross-legged on a woven mat, her silver hair cascading down her back, stirring with deliberate, rhythmic motions.
“You’ve seen shadow
