The walk back to camp felt longer than the journey there.
No one spoke at first.
The forest was quieter now, as if even the wind was holding its breath. Leaves rustled only when they stepped on them. The usual nighttime chorus of insects and distant beasts seemed muted, as though the world itself had watched them fail and was giving them space to grieve.
Elenea walked in the middle of the group, fists clenched tightly around the hem of her cloak. She kept her eyes fixed on the path, but her vision blurred anyway. Every time she blinked, she saw Aranea.
Laughing. Complaining about homework. Cheering during the festival. Pouting when she lost a game.
And then, banging on a glowing barrier, eyes wide with terror, mouth forming her name.
The moment they reached the edge of their clearing, Elenea's knees gave out.
