Rohan checked his other belongings next, hands trembling slightly with a hope he barely trusted — both of Liora's charms, still warm and present against his chest. Jorren's small carved token, intact in his pocket. Hestia's own token, the mark of hearth, its warmth finally, fully spent, its surface gone cool and inert in a way that told him, without needing further explanation, exactly what it had cost to see him safely through. Dr. Farr's data chip, tucked securely alongside everything else, survived intact.
Everything made it. Everyone's gifts, everyone's kindness, carried all the way home.
He hesitated a long moment, then reached out toward a patch of bare soil near the field's edge, curious despite everything else demanding his attention, and called on Molten Assimilation with the same careful, deliberate focus he'd used a thousand times across seven months of practice.
