The cane felt heavier than it looked. Kian stood at the base of the cliff path. The sun was high. The heat shimmered off the white chalk above. The shelter was hidden behind the ridge. He knew Elara was there. Not in the shelter. In the air. In the light. In the quiet that had settled over the land.
He gripped the ash wood. It was warm. Not from the sun. From within. It hummed against his palm. A low vibration. Like a heartbeat. But slower. Calmer.
Are you ready? the wood seemed to ask.
Kian took a breath. He was sixteen. His shoulders were broad from working the nets. His hands were calloused from rope and wood. But this... this was different. This wasn't work. This was duty.
"Yes," Kian said. His voice sounded small in the vast silence.
He turned. The village lay below. Smoke rose f
