The silence was heavier than the Wellspring's fall.
Lena sat in the garden, her hands resting on her knees, her eyes fixed on the distant mountains. The wind carried the scent of dry earth and dying grass. The Wellspring was gone. The golden water was gone. The connection that had held everything together was a memory.
Lyra found her there, as she always did. "You've been sitting here for hours."
"I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About what comes next. The Wellspring gave us so much. Now we have to find our own way."
"Is that so bad?"
"No. It's just hard."
---
The weeks that followed were a test of everything they had learned.
Without the Wellspring's guidance, the freed wounds struggled. Some lost their sense of purpose. Others relapsed into old patterns of fear and isolation
