Rielun's POV:
Morning didn't arrive so much as unfold.
Soft gold light filtered through the willow branches, warming the moss beneath them. The grove felt different at dawn — brighter, fuller, humming with a quiet magic that hadn't been there the night before. The air itself seemed to glow.
Rielun felt it first.
A warmth under his skin.
A pulse that wasn't his heartbeat.
Five threads tugging gently at him — steady, warm, unmistakable.
The soulmate bond.
It was stronger in the morning light, as if the sun itself fed it. The sensation made his breath catch, a soft gasp he couldn't hold back.
Aeris stirred beside him, blinking sleepily. "You feel it too, don't you?"
Rielun nodded, pressing a hand to his chest. "It's… louder."
Noctis, already awake and pacing the grove's edge, paused mid‑step. His shadows curled tighter around him, reacting to the same pull. Rowan groaned awake, rubbing his eyes — and immediately winced, one hand flying to his ribs.
Aeris noticed instantly. "Your side again?"
"It's fine," Rowan muttered, even though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.
He tried to stand — and pain shot through both his leg and his side. His breath hitched, sharp and involuntary.
Sylas was beside him in an instant. "Rowan, stop. You're hurting yourself."
"I said I'm fine."
"You're not," Aeris said, crossing his arms.
Rowan glared at both of them, stubborn even while swaying on his feet.
Sylas gently guided him back down, one hand on Rowan's shoulder, the other hovering near his ribs. The moment Sylas touched him, the soulmate bond pulsed — warm, bright, unmistakable. Rowan inhaled sharply.
"What was that?"
"The bond," Sylas murmured. "Let me help."
Rowan hesitated — pride warring with pain — but the bond tugged at him, urging trust.
Sylas placed one hand over Rowan's injured side and the other over his leg. The grove quieted, as if holding its breath.
Light gathered beneath Sylas's palms — green, gold, and faintly silver, like moonlit sap. Warmth spread through Rowan's ribs first, easing the stabbing ache into something duller, bearable. Then the warmth flowed into his leg, softening the sharp pain into a manageable throb.
Not healing.
Not fully.
But enough.
When Sylas pulled back, he looked tired but steady.
Rowan tested his breathing — the sharp pain in his side had faded to a deep soreness. He flexed his leg next, surprised at how much easier it felt to move.
"It… hurts less," he admitted quietly.
Sylas gave a small, relieved smile. "Good. That's all I can do."
Rowan stared at him — not with gratitude, but with something deeper, something pulled taut by the bond. "Thank you," he murmured, voice rough.
The bond hummed between all of them, warm and bright in the morning light.
They gathered their things — what little they had — and approached the grove's boundary. The air shimmered faintly, as if the grove itself was holding its breath.
Elias paused, eyes unfocusing for a moment.
The air thickened.
The grove stilled.
The prophecy stirred.
His voice came out low, threaded with something ancient:
"When dawn strengthens the threads of six,
the moon‑carved path will stir.
Yet memory alone may wake it fully,
and the Haven hides from those who walk apart."
Silence fell.
Aeris swallowed. "Six threads… that's us."
Noctis's shadows tightened. "United. Meaning none of us can leave."
Rowan exhaled. "Not that I planned to."
Sylas looked at Rielun — soft, steady, certain. "We go together."
Rielun's chest tightened. "All of us."
Elias nodded. "The Moon‑Carved Haven will reveal itself once we're close. But the Hollow will sense the shift. We must move."
Rielun stepped toward the grove's edge.
The air shimmered.
Branches dipped toward him.
Leaves brushed his shoulders.
The grove's magic pulsed like a heartbeat.
It didn't want to let him go.
Sylas moved to his side instinctively.
Rowan followed, breathing carefully but steady.
Aeris slipped his hand into Rielun's.
Noctis's shadows curled protectively around all of them.
Elias stood behind them, steady as a pillar.
The soulmate bond hummed — warm, bright, unbreakable.
Rielun took a breath.
Then he stepped forward.
The grove parted for him like a curtain.
The world outside was colder.
Sharper.
Darker.
But he wasn't alone.
Six threads glowed between them — bright as dawn.
And the journey to the Moon‑Carved Haven began.