The subtle shift in the stowaway shadow was a secret worry that Seraphina carried deep inside, a cold stone in her own gut to match the one in her daughter's spirit. Luna seemed unchanged—her laughter still echoed through the Spire's halls, her connection to the world around her as vibrant as ever. But Seraphina, with her Gardener's heightened senses, felt the difference. The shadow was no longer completely inert; it was a quiet listener, a dormant seed waiting for… something.
This new, subtle tension made the peace feel fragile. The Convocation was relieved that the temporal paradox had been resolved without catastrophic consequences, but a weariness had set in. Every solution seemed to birth a new, more nuanced problem.
It was during one of these quiet, watchful days that the Change occurred. It wasn't a dramatic arrival. There was no rip in space, no blast of energy, no declaration of presence. It was a subtraction. A silencing.
