Chapter 37: The Stillwater Mnemosyne
The airship Aethel's Promise was a bubble of borrowed civilization in the vast, uncaring sky. A gift from the Athenaeum, its varnished deck and polished brass fittings felt surreal after the raw, emotional geology of the desert. As it carried them over the final mountain range, Elara stood at the stern rail, watching the dunes recede into a shimmering, golden haze. Her fatigue was no longer a simple weariness; it had crystallized into a permanent, low-grade ache in her soul, the cost of serving as a tuning fork for the world's traumatized psyche. Kaelen stood beside her, a solid, silent bulwark. He no longer scanned for physical threats from the horizon; his gaze was turned inward, guarding the fragile peace they were stitching into reality.
