The silence that followed Martha’s disappearance was louder than the battle.

 

Birdsong returned. Wind stirred the leaves. The golden hum of the sanctuary was gone, replaced by the raw breath of the wild.

 

And yet… none of them moved.

 

The four stood in the clearing where she had faded, her absence pressing on them heavier than any blade.

 

It was Lirael who whispered first.

“The barrier’s gone.”

 

The forest stretched before them, no shimmer, no warping light. Freedom.

 

Kael’s voice was harsh. “So just like that… after weeks of circling, we’re out?”

Disbelief burned beneath his tone.

 

Liz’s voice trembled. “At the cost of Martha.”

 

The name left ash in the air.

 

Lirael folded her arms, jaw tight. “She was… strange. But she gave us warmth. Home, even here.”

 

Ezryn said nothing. His eyes fixed on Liz, whose lips pressed together as her shoulders shook. Martha had been more than shelter. She had been the first thread tying Liz to the world—a quiet, unconditional love. And now that thread was gone.

 

Ezryn reached out, steady, and took her hand.

 

Liz flinched—not in rejection, but because the touch cracked something inside her. Her fingers gripped his, and the sobs came—small, broken, uncontrollable.

 

Ezryn said nothing. He simply stood with her.

 

Kael turned aside, crouching to press dirt into his palm, jaw locked tight. Lirael lowered her gaze, silent.

 

Time passed.

 

And then—Liz whispered. Words she didn’t know. Words that came from somewhere deeper.

 

The earth stirred.

 

From beneath her feet, golden light poured outward—soft at first, then vast, like water flooding the forest floor.

 

The air bloomed.

 

Roots straightened, bark smoothed, flowers unfurled in cascades of color. Wilted vines sprang green. Old scars in the earth knitted shut. The very forest breathed—refreshed, reborn, luminous. Birds lifted into song so bright it rang like bells.

 

And her companions—Kael, Ezryn, Lirael—all felt their wounds close. Their exhaustion eased. Pain vanished. Even their spirits lightened, as though touched by something vast.

 

They stared. Speechless.

 

Ezryn’s breath caught. “That’s… impossible.”

 

Kael rose to his feet, fire in his eyes. “Liz—stop! You’re burning yourself out!”

 

But Liz swayed, the golden tide still flowing from her. Her hair shimmered faintly silver at the roots, her eyes dimming with strain.

 

Then, suddenly, the glow cut.

 

She collapsed.

 

Ezryn lunged, but Kael was faster.

 

He caught her in his arms, her body light against him, her breath faint. His grip tightened, as though he could anchor her back by sheer force.

 

“She’s drained everything,” he said, voice rough. “We need shelter before nightfall.”

 

But even as he spoke, the forest changed again.

 

The beauty Liz had unleashed was not silent.

 

It was loud. Too loud.

 

From the undergrowth came a growl. Then another. Eyes gleamed from the shadows. Claws scraped bark.

 

Lirael’s fan snapped open. “You’ve drawn them.”

 

Ezryn’s sigils blazed across his arm. “The healing—it acted like a beacon.”

 

Kael’s jaw clenched. He shifted Liz higher against him. His voice was steel. “Then we cut them down.”

 

The forest roared as the monsters surged.

 

Kael charged. Flame burst at his heels, carving the path forward. He didn’t draw his sword—his fire was the blade, burning with singular fury. Every beast that lunged was met with searing arcs of silver flame, each strike precise, each movement shielded around the girl in his arms.

 

Behind him, Ezryn’s lightning cracked the air, Lirael’s winds sliced through claws and teeth—but Kael never looked back.

 

Blood ran down his arm, hissing into steam. He did not falter.

 

For him, there was only one purpose.

 

Protect her.

 

Only when the last monster crumbled into ash did Kael finally stop, chest heaving.

 

And through the trees ahead—they heard it.

 

Laughter. Voices. The clatter of carts on wooden planks.

 

A village.

 

Sunlit rooftops, the smell of bread, children’s laughter carried by the wind.

 

Lirael exhaled sharply, lowering her fan. “We made it.”

 

Ezryn’s eyes flicked to Liz in Kael’s arms—her hand curled in his cloak even in unconsciousness. His gaze darkened with thought, regret, awe.

 

Kael adjusted his grip, softer now. His eyes didn’t leave her face.

 

“Let’s find her a place to rest,” he murmured.

 

No one argued.

 

And for the first time in weeks, they walked not into shadow—

But into sunlight.