The silence after the fight felt unnatural.
Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Just… waiting.
Liora sat at the edge of a fractured stone ridge, her breathing finally steady but her body still heavy. The silver light was gone now, but the memory of it lingered beneath her skin like something that hadn't fully settled. She stared at her hands, turning them slightly as if expecting the power to flicker again.
"…It's quieter."
Her voice was soft.
Almost uncertain.
Cairis stood a few steps behind her, watching.
"…That doesn't mean it's gone."
"I know."
A pause.
"…But it's different."
That much was true.
Before, the power had felt like something foreign—something that moved on its own, something she had to fight or restrain. Now—
It felt closer.
Not fully hers.
But not separate either.
Like something that had finally acknowledged her.
She lowered her hands slowly.
"…When I stopped resisting it…"
Her voice trailed off slightly.
"…It stopped fighting back."
