The air near the World Tree was still — so still that even the wind seemed afraid to breathe.
The morning light filtered through the canopy like liquid gold, yet beneath that divine radiance lingered a heavy silence. Every leaf, every whisper of mana, carried the weight of what had just transpired.
Sylthara stood motionless, her eyes hollow with shock. The truth she had uncovered tore through her like a blade — the truth of her people's sacrifice, their choice to embrace darkness not because they were cursed, but because they had chosen to protect all life.
Her lips trembled. She wanted to speak, to cry, but no words came.
Luca watched her quietly from beside the luminous roots. His gaze softened, though he didn't know what to say.
He could only place a hand gently upon her shoulder.
Sometimes, words were meaningless.
In the silence that followed, his thoughts drifted.
