They didn't speak at first.
The Hollow had given them truth—too much truth—and now, in the calm, they sat with it. The fire between them had died down to embers. Kaelira poked a stick into the ash, watching the soft glow pulse like a tired heartbeat. Elarin sat cross-legged across from her, brushing soot from her knees.
"Do you remember," Kaelira said softly, "when we used to sneak into the moon orchard?"
Elarin looked up. "You mean when you snuck in and I followed to keep you from falling out of trees?"
Kaelira smirked. "I wasn't that clumsy."
"You broke your wrist twice. Once on your birthday."
A silence, then shared laughter. Quiet, but real. It hurt to laugh—but it also healed something.
---
"Did you hate me?" Kaelira asked. The question hung heavy.
Elarin didn't answer right away.
Then: "Sometimes. I hated what they turned you into. I hated that you got the crown and I got the scars. I hated how easily the world forgot me and glorified you."
Kaelira looked into the coals. "I hated that I had no say in any of it. That I loved you, and still felt like I betrayed you."
Elarin's voice cracked. "You didn't."
Kaelira met her gaze. "And you didn't either."
---
They sat in silence again, but this one felt… full. No longer empty. Elarin stood, brushed off her hands, and looked up toward the twisted canopy of trees above.
"I used to think I was cursed," she said. "Now I think… maybe we were just miswritten."
Kaelira rose beside her. "Then let's rewrite it."
They clasped hands—different now than when they were girls. These were the hands of women who had bled, lost, survived.
"Will you stay with me?" Kaelira asked. "Back in Veyrhold?"
"I will," Elarin said. "But not as your shadow."
Kaelira nodded. "As my sister."
And for the first time in lifetimes, it was enough.
---
That night, they lay beneath the stars like they once had as children—heads close, sharing warmth.
Elarin whispered, "Do you think Dorian will forgive you?"
Kaelira exhaled. "He already has. The harder question is: can I forgive myself?"
Elarin turned to her. "Then start with this—remember who you are."
Kaelira closed her eyes.
"Not just Kaelira.
Not just Anira.
But both. A whole flame."
---
When they rose at dawn, the Hollow was still. Watching. Waiting. But the path had opened. Hand in hand, they walked toward it—not to forget the past, but to carry it forward.
Together.