They didn’t stop until dusk.
Not because they were being chased—no shouts rose behind them, no horns sounded from the town—but because the air itself felt unstable, like pressure before a storm that hadn’t decided where to break. Elara’s legs finally gave out on a ridge overlooking the lowlands, her breath coming shallow, chest aching as if she’d run for days instead of hours.
Rachel caught her before she hit the ground. “That’s it. We’re stopping.”
Elara didn’t argue.
She sank onto the grass, fingers digging into damp earth as the bond continued to hum—fainter now, but wider. It felt less like something she carried and more like something she stood inside. Every choice made in the town still echoed faintly, overlapping voices rippling through the threads she’d opened.
Too many all at
