The Witch of Tallow came alone.
She was old now truly old. Mortality had reclaimed its due.
"You look tired," she said, smiling faintly.
"I am," Kael admitted.
She sat at the boundary as if it were a garden wall. "You did better than we ever did."
Kael shook his head. "I only delayed the inevitable."
She chuckled softly. "That's all anyone ever does."
Before leaving, she gave him one final lesson not about power, but about letting go.
"Humanity isn't something you preserve by force," she said. "It survives because it's allowed to change."
When she walked away, Kael felt something close to grief, and something closer to gratitude.