After the news of Forgeheart Crucible was delivered…
Selena's eyelashes twitched—barely, like a feather disturbed by a faint breeze—before her eyes opened with slow precision. No frantic gasp, no dramatic inhale.
Just a quiet, controlled awakening… though the subtle stiffness in her jaw betrayed a strain beneath the surface.
Her gaze drifted across the unfamiliar runes on the ceiling, then the dim crystals lining the infirmary walls. Only after several seconds did her eyes land on the figures around her—Luca, Sylthara…
…and the veiled woman seated closest.
A faint pause.
Her breathing changed—very slightly, a soft hitch so controlled anyone else would've missed it. But Luca, watching closely, noticed.
Her lips parted a fraction.
"Mother…?"
The voice that left her was not warm. Not relieved.
It was hollow—soft, restrained, as if the word itself had to be forced past an emotional barrier she wasn't ready to open.
