Elara's POV
We went together with Lyra through landscapes that felt like they were dreaming. Streams glowed with a soft blue light. Trees twisted into graceful arches. The very air seemed to listen. Lyra moved without hesitation, her bone staff tapping a quiet rhythm on the strange earth.
I clutched the warm grey pebble in my pocket. It pulsed gently, like a second heartbeat. With each step, I felt less like a visitor and more like a key slowly turning in a lock to open. The static, wild energy inside me began to settle into a low, steady hum in time with the land.
Lucian walked beside me, with his silence heavy. Lyra’s words about his father, about the cult’s poison, had shaken him to his core. His whole life, he had believed that his family’s rage was as a result of a curse of blood.
