Elara couldn't speak for a while. She just breathed, slow and controlled, yet each inhale still carried traces of the pressure that had nearly taken her over.
The Moon had not withdrawn completely; instead, it lingered in the background, as if it had chosen to observe rather than force its way in. That shift was subtle but dangerous, because for the first time Elara understood with unsettling clarity that this was not merely power. It was something with intention, something capable of learning her limits just as she was learning its presence. When she noticed the faint trembling in her knees, she realized it wasn't exhaustion alone. It was the cost of reaching her edge and pulling herself back.
