I found myself near the old ruins again today. The air was still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something else—like crushed mint. I’d been walking for hours, following the faint glow of the aurora that seemed to pulse just below the horizon. My fingers brushed against the cold stone, and for a moment, it felt like the walls were whispering. Then they fell silent.
Vivian was waiting for me at the edge of the clearing. She hadn’t changed much since I last saw her—her eyes still the color of storm clouds, her movements slow and deliberate. She held a small pouch of herbs, her hands trembling slightly. “You’re here,” she said, her voice low. “I’ve been looking for you.”
I didn’t know what to say. The silence between us was thick, like the fog that had settled over the valley. I just stared at her, wondering if she’d changed too—or if I’d just imagined it.
She didn’t move. “Do you remember the night we talked about the ruins?” she asked. “The one where you said you’d find the truth?”
I swallowed hard. “I remember.”