The first true light of morning stretched across the forest like a hesitant blessing, brushing the tops of the ancient trees with gold. The clearing where Kaelan and Liora stood felt suspended between two worlds—dawn and dusk, shadow and sun, fear and something far more fragile: becoming.
Kaelan remained unnervingly still, his body taut as if bracing for an attack that hadn't yet come. The darkness around him curled in soft, wavering tendrils, no longer violent but undeniably alive. It clung to him like a second skin, shifting with the rhythm of his breath.
Liora watched him carefully, reading every minute change in his posture. "What are you feeling?" she asked quietly.
Kaelan's jaw clenched. "Like I'm standing on the edge of myself."
