Dawn came pale and slow.
Mist hung over the stream, softening the land until edges blurred.
For a moment, everything looked unreal.
Lira woke first.
She didn't move right away.
She listened.
Not for danger—
for change.
"It's quieter," she whispered.
Kael felt it too.
Not empty, his intent replied. Settled.
Sera stirred nearby, rubbing her eyes.
"I slept," she said, surprised.
"Like… real sleep."
Jon nodded.
"Me too."
The Seer straightened, scanning the horizon.
"That's the response," he said.
"Not fear. Adjustment."
They packed quickly and moved on, following the stream until it narrowed into scattered pools.
As they walked, Lira felt small pulses through the bond.
Not cries for help.
Not warnings.
Acknowledgment.
She stopped once, pressing her palm to a smooth stone.
"It's spreading without us now," she said.
Kael understood.
We're no longer needed everywhere.
That thought was strange.
And freeing.
By midday, they reached a low ridge overlooking a crossroads.
Old signs stood there—faded, broken, forgotten.
The Seer paused.
"This used to be a control point," he said.
"Taxes. Patrols. Orders."
Now—
Nothing.
No banners.
No guards.
Just wind.
Sera frowned.
"Why is it empty?"
Kael felt the answer before the Seer spoke.
"Because people stopped coming," the Seer said.
"When control loses meaning, it dissolves."
Lira felt a quiet pride not sharp, not loud.
Earned.
They didn't stay long.
Movement was still safety.
But as they left the crossroads behind, Lira felt something brush the bond again.
Different this time.
Focused.
Curious.
"Kael… someone is reaching," she said softly.
He slowed.
Not hostile.
No.
Measured.
The Seer's expression tightened.
"That's not fear," he said.
"That's inquiry."
Lira closed her eyes briefly.
She didn't push back.
She didn't answer.
She simply stayed present.
The touch withdrew.
Whoever it was had learned something.
Far away, in a place of stone and silence, the heir felt the attempt fail.
Not resisted.
Ignored.
He let out a slow breath.
"They're not opposing," he said quietly.
"They're existing."
And that—
Was harder to stop than any rebellion.
On the ridge, Lira opened her eyes.
"It passed," she said.
Kael squeezed her hand.
Good.
They continued down the far side, toward lands not yet marked by fear—or hope.
Behind them, the crossroads stayed empty.
Ahead, the quiet response continued to move faster than any order ever could.
Not as command.
But as choice.
And choice—
Once remembered
Refuses to disappear.