The victory over the "unlived life" was the sweetest yet, because it was the most personal. It was not a defiance of an external force, but a reclamation of an internal landscape. The people of Aethelburg walked with a new kind of confidence, a settledness in their own skins. Their songs were sung with a deeper resonance, their work done with a renewed sense of purpose. They had looked into the void of possibility and chosen their own reality, and the choosing had made it more precious, more *theirs*.
The silence from Silverport stretched on, becoming a feature of the landscape rather than a threat. Spring deepened into early summer, and the city bloomed with a confidence that felt unassailable. They had faced and overcome attacks on their treasure, their spirit, their vitality, and their very contentment. What was left?
