[VOLUME 12: THE ORIGIN][ERA: THE PRIMEVAL AGE][LOCATION: SILVERLEAF VILLAGE SQUARE]
The mirror in Elara's bedroom reflected a young woman she barely recognized.
For the annual Festival of Lights, she had traded her usual practical, herb-stained apothecary apron for a sweeping dress of soft, dusk-blue silk. She had braided her hair back, pinning it with small silver clips, and left a few soft tendrils to frame her face.
She looked down at her right hand. The terrifying, dark miasma burn from yesterday was completely gone. Where there should have been blistered, scarred flesh, the skin was perfectly smooth, radiating a faint, residual warmth from Li's impossible celestial salve.
Her heart gave a traitorous flutter as she remembered the heavy, intoxicating weight of Aldren's hand holding her steady, and the impossibly gentle press of Li's lips against her knuckles.
