Auren turned and put the feather on the table carefully, "Bring her here," he said.
Vaylen looked up sharply. "What?"
"Celeste," Auren repeated, his voice steady but carrying something final beneath it. "Bring her body to the manor. Right now."
Lucian turned toward him, brows drawing together. "Auren… you're sure?"
Auren nodded once, firm.
"If I'm going to pull her soul back, then her body needs to be here. The feather can guide her spirit, but it still needs somewhere to return to," he explained. "Without that… even if I reach her, she'll have nowhere to go."
Vaylen's hands clenched at his sides, hesitation flashing across his face like a shadow. "But her condition—"
"I know," Auren cut in gently, though urgency threaded through every word. "Wrap her in warming spells. Have your best healers go with her. Do not let her flame weaken any further while she's in transit."
Silence settled.
Then Vaylen bowed deeply, not just as a lord… but as a father.
