Bound by Moonlight and Magic
The dawn came softly, as if the sky itself had grown tender in this new age. Not with trumpet-light or searing blaze, but with a hush, a breath—roses blooming in the clouds, silver dew kissing the stones of the path.
Liora awoke not to alarms or the echo of war horns, but to the pulse of the Thread—gentle, persistent, like the world whispering her name.
She was not in a tent, nor a palace, nor the ruins of some ancient place. She was beneath the tree that had grown for her, bark like frost, leaves as dark and red as drying blood, but with none of the sorrow. It held no omen, only memory.
Kael stirred beside her, one arm draped over her waist. His heartbeat was steady. Earthbound. Real.
But the moment would not stay still.
The Thread tugged.
Something ha
