The air rippled the moment Isabella appeared, light bending, wind whispering, earth humming beneath her feet. The mountain stretched before her like something pulled from an ancient dream—tall, shrouded in fog that shimmered faintly with silver-blue light. Crystals jutted out from the rocks like sleeping stars, their glow painting her skin in pale shades of moonlight.
For a heartbeat, it was beautiful. Almost heartbreakingly so.
And then she realized—
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
The last time she had stood here, the mountain had been alive. Birds had cried out in the distance, leaves had whispered under the wind, and the faint hum of magic had felt warm, inviting. But tonight, the air was still. The silence pressed against her ears until it started to ache.
