Bound by Moonlight and Magic
The night that followed was unlike any other the Hollow had known.
Not because the stars burned brighter—though they did, constellations realigning as if the heavens themselves rewrote their own script in her name.
Not because the winds sang—though they did, not with sorrow, but with ancient lullabies once lost to flame and time.
But because for the first time, the Hollow breathed. Not as a place abandoned by gods or haunted by war—but as a living realm, a cradle of magic and memory bound together by will and wonder.
Liora lay awake beneath the tree, hand clasped in Kael’s, staring up at the indigo sky. Her body still hummed from the encounter with the Archive, but it wasn’t fear or doubt that kept her from sleep. It was clarity—sharp, aching, and beautif
