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... e Gate.
Miraen blinked.
One breath, and the scent of old parchment, wet earth, and lavender assaulted her senses. The wind no longer sang in fragmented tongues—it whispered through the trees of the Virelan grove, steady and warm.
They were home.
Elyon collapsed to one knee beside her, burying his hand into the soft moss with disbelief. "It’s real," he said. "We made it."
Korrin turned his face skyward, eyes wide. "It feels... heavier here."
Lira no ...
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