Silence had never felt so heavy.
The roots above no longer whispered. The trees stood still, their boughs no longer trembling beneath hidden breaths. For the first time in centuries, the forest exhaled—long, slow, and clean.
But beneath the surface, in the echo of the old shrine, the air was thick with memory.
Elira knelt beside Caelum, brushing blood and soot from his cheek. His eyes were closed, breath shallow but steady. His beast-form had retreated, leaving behind only the man—scarred, exhausted, but alive.
Maerel stood quietly behind them, hands clasped, her lantern dim. "The forest has gone quiet," she said. "Truly quiet. Not even the roots are murmuring anymore."
"It's free," Elira whispered. Her fingers still tingled with magic. She could feel the void where the curse had been—like an old wound finally closed.
Maerel nodded. "You did what none of us could."
"No," Elira said, shaking her head. "Selene did. And Caelum. I just followed the path they gave me."
She looked down at the ashes in the basin—where the seed of binding had vanished.
There was nothing left but the faint shimmer of memory, fading quickly.
Maerel stepped forward. "We should get him out of here."
Elira touched Caelum's hand. "Can you walk?"
His eyes fluttered open, groggy but alert. "Only if you help me."
With effort, he sat up, and Elira slipped an arm around his shoulder. Together, they rose.
They climbed slowly, back up through the hollow staircase carved in roots and stone. The light above grew brighter with every step, until finally, they emerged into the ruined shrine once more—except now, it was blooming.
The gold-leafed tree at the center had grown.
Where cracked stone once lay, new roots had coiled in protective spirals. Pale blue flowers bloomed in the rubble. Birds chirped overhead—timidly at first, as though uncertain they were allowed.
Maerel let out a soft gasp. "It's already healing."
Elira turned toward the tree. "Selene…"
She stepped closer, placing her hand on its bark. It pulsed once—warm and gentle—and then stilled.
"She's gone," Caelum said quietly. "Truly this time."
Elira nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "She gave everything. And now the forest can rest."
They stood there a while longer—three souls in the quiet dawn, watching the first light of a free forest rise.
They returned to the Hollow Court that same evening.
The walls seemed taller now. Brighter. The vines that once threatened to overrun the halls had pulled back, curling into ordered growth. Glyphs on the floor no longer whispered danger—they hummed softly, like lullabies.
Elira stood at the balcony overlooking the inner garden, watching the wind pass through new leaves.
Caelum joined her a moment later, his arm bandaged, his steps still limping.
"You did it," he said. "Truly."
"We did it," she corrected.
He smiled faintly. "It still doesn't feel real. The quiet. I've lived with that creature in my veins for so long…"
Elira looked up at him. "You're free now. You get to decide who you are without it."
He hesitated. "And if I don't know who that is?"
"Then we find out together."
Caelum turned toward her fully. His eyes, no longer glowing with magic, looked soft in the firelight. "You changed everything, Elira. Not just for the forest. For me."
She smiled. "You gave me a reason to stay. You gave me something worth fighting for."
A pause.
Then, as if the air gave permission, he leaned in—forehead resting gently against hers.
Not rushed. Not desperate.
Just true.
Days passed.
The Hollow Court reopened its outer wards, allowing wandering spirits to return to their proper cycles. The great trees began to regrow their canopies. Flowers Elira didn't even have names for burst from the soil, painting the once-muted glades in gold, lavender, and green.
Villagers from the outer reaches who once feared the forest returned, curious and cautious.
Maerel guided them, becoming the quiet steward of the new order.
Elira spent her time restoring the shrine—this time not as a place of power, but of peace. She painted glyphs that hummed of memory, not chains. She sang to the soil. The birds learned her name.
And Caelum—he remained by her side.
Not as a beast.
Not as a guardian bound by guilt.
But as a man rediscovering what it meant to be whole.
One evening, as the moon rose full and kind, Caelum found her by the riverbank.
She was kneeling in the water, guiding a floating lantern made of bark and petals.
"For Selene?" he asked softly.
Elira nodded. "And for those we lost. Eldwyn. The children. The voices in the roots."
He stepped into the water, sending ripples across the surface.
"Do you think she's truly at peace?" he asked.
Elira looked up at the stars. "I think she is. I think she was waiting for someone to finish what she started. And now… she's free."
He took her hand. "And what about you?"
She turned to him. "I don't know yet. But I think… I want to see where this new path leads."
He smiled. "Then let's walk it together."
She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.
And together, they watched the lantern drift down the river—carrying memory, magic, and hope into the horizon.