The first light of dawn painted the Moonstone Sanctuary in hues of gold and rose. Soft wind rippled through the broken leaves, whispering a lullaby the land hadn't heard in years—peace. It was fragile, tentative, but real.
Aria stood on the ridge overlooking the valley below, arms crossed as sunlight kissed her skin. Her hair fluttered around her face, and the last remnants of starlight clung to her fingertips. Behind her, the Circle moved quietly through the sanctuary ruins, helping the wounded, rebuilding what had been scorched in flame and fury.
She hadn't slept since Mara's defeat.
Because she knew the battle might be over—but the war was far from done.
Footsteps approached behind her, steady and familiar. Rowan.
He said nothing at first, just stood beside her, eyes on the horizon. The silence stretched between them, not awkward, but full—an understanding older than words.
"You should be resting," he said softly.
"So should you."
