The memory dissolved like mist beneath the warmth of the morning sun.
The cries of the newborn princess, the jubilant voices that had echoed through the halls of Emberhold, and the magnificent palace of the Flamebornes slowly unraveled until nothing remained except the lonely crackling of the fire inside an ancient hut.
The memory had ended.
Once again, they stood within the old witch's dwelling.
Nehum remained where the overwhelming pressure had hurled her only moments earlier. Her frail back rested against the weathered wall, her breathing still uneven, and her lone eye remained fixed upon the young prince standing before the ancient mural of the Five Gods.
Silence reclaimed the hut.
For a long while, neither of them spoke. The fire crackled softly between them, its orange glow casting restless shadows across the carved walls, until Vaelric finally broke the silence.
