The path beneath their feet gradually transitioned from cracked stone to soft, dew-drenched earth. Morning light threaded through the trees, washing everything in a quiet gold. It should have felt like a return, like a homecoming—but for Verena, it felt like a new frontier. The Old Wing was behind them, broken and fading, its dreamstuff dispersing. Ahead lay the still world, uncertain and half-healed.
Verena's eyes scanned her companions.
Evelyn was walking ahead, just a few paces from Sera and Beatrice. She wasn't slouching anymore. Her steps had a tentative rhythm now, like someone learning to speak with her body instead of apologizing for its existence. Balance magic shimmered faintly along her fingertips—subtle, but deliberate. Verena noted the way Evelyn didn't flinch when branches brushed her shoulder. That was new.
