The lantern burned low in the corner of the room. Dinner had been eaten in silence, every bite tasting heavier than usual. Now the family gathered close around the hearth, the glow of the firelight softening their tired faces.
Maelin sat on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the flames as though they held the answers. Her siblings watched her in unusual quiet, their usual chatter stilled by the weight of the emissary's words. Finally, it was her mother who spoke, her voice gentle but firm.
"You've been quiet all evening, Maelin. Tell us what sits on your heart."
Maelin hugged her knees tighter. For once, her endless words did not come easily. But when she finally looked up at them, all the familiar faces she had grown with, argued with, laughed with, the words spilled out, raw and trembling.
