The vision clung to Niah like a stubborn fog that was not sharp enough to cut through her, but heavy enough to settle in her bones. She stood just outside the chapel, pressing her back against the cool stone, trying to ground herself. The symbol...The name Esme. It echoed inside her, deep and insistent, but she wasn't ready to let it take over.
The sky had changed, or maybe she was just seeing it differently now. Clouds drifted overhead, slow and deliberate, like someone painting with a giant brush. The breeze carried secrets, soft whispers she couldn't quite put into words, but somehow, she got the message. This wasn't magic with sparks and thunderclaps. It was quieter, like a low hum under her skin.
She let out a long, shaky breath.
"I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a story, but I missed the first few chapters," she muttered, half to herself.
Zaire appeared at her side, arms crossed, looking out at the same sky. "Welcome to the middle," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She shot him a look. "Wow, thanks. That was super helpful."
He didn't even crack a smile this time. "You don't have to force it, you know. The harder you chase it, the more it slips away."
"Easy for you to say. You remember everything."
Zaire tilted his head, studying her. "You say that like it's some kind of a blessing."
Silence dropped between them, thick and heavy. Somewhere in the distance, the chapel bells started to chime, their sound floating on the late afternoon air. The sunlight was turning everything gold, making the world look almost too normal after what she'd just been through. It felt like the universe was playing a joke on her.
"I don't want to be someone else," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Zaire was quiet for a moment, then said, "Maybe you're not someone else. Maybe you're just… more of who you've always been."
She couldn't reply to that. Instead, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
That's when Dr Thorne stepped out, rolling her sleeves up like she was ready to get her hands dirty. "Go home, Niah. Eat something and rest. You've done enough unraveling for one day."
Niah raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to drop more cryptic hints on me, are you?"
Thorne grinned. "Not today. You'd just argue with them anyway."
That actually got a tiny, tired smile out of Niah.
She nodded, turning toward the stone path that led away from the chapel. The breeze brushed her cheek gently, like a familiar hand touching her.
* * *