Ronan
I carried her across the courtyard under the pale moonlight. Not because she couldn't walk, she could but because this night demanded ceremony. Quiet power. A ritual fit for the Guardian.
Zara lay limp in my arms, exhaustion written in each slow breath. The Vessel's pull had been intense. She'd seen too much. Felt too much.
But tonight, tonight she'd find rest.
"Thank you, " she murmured when I reached the boundary of the forest grove. Her voice was soft, almost reverent.
"You don't have to thank me, " I said, setting her down beside a shallow pool of silver-blue water, the ancient moonwell. It shimmered under the full lunar glow, ripples reflecting faint light like starlight dancing on obsidian.
The legend said this spot had healed wolves for centuries. Mended he
