The land hasn’t been quiet in months, but the stillness this morning feels earned, like the world is finally remembering how to breathe.
The fields behind Grams’s house glow with soft threads of Vein-light weaving through the grass, too gentle to threaten, too steady to fear. The wards hum like a heartbeat under my feet—no longer frantic, no longer straining. Just present. Alive. Balanced.
Bella runs circles beneath the willow tree, her laughter carrying across the yard, her curls bouncing with each step. The shrine beneath the branches catches the early sun, pale stone gleaming where Grams’s name is etched. I kneel there every morning, touching the edge of the stone, whispering things I was never brave enough to say while she was alive.
William steps out of the doorway behind me, the o
