The room smelled of lavender and dust.
Soft wind drifted in through the open window, carrying birdsong and the scent of early spring.
And then—
She stirred.
Lyena's fingers twitched against the blanket.
Her eyelids fluttered once.
Then opened.
Light touched her face, unfamiliar and gentle.
The ceiling was still painted with stars — the same ones that had watched her sleep.
Her body felt heavy.
But her chest no longer burned.
Her breath came easy.
She blinked.
Turned her head.
And saw her.
Isara.
Curled up in a chair, asleep with her head on folded arms.
One shoe halfway off.
A book on the floor beside her.
And beside the chair, sitting quietly, as if she'd never left—
Serenya.
Eyes wide.
Hands folded in her lap.
Watching.
Always watching.
Serenya stood without a sound and leaned over the bed.
"She's awake," she whispered.
Isara jerked up, eyes wide and wild.
"What?!"
She looked at Lyena and gasped so loudly, the window almost rattled.
"You're AWAKE!"
Lyena tried to smile.
Her lips barely moved.
But her eyes did.
And that was enough.
Moments later, footsteps filled the hallway.
A door opened.
And Elder Solarin entered, robes trailing like quiet wind.
He looked at her.
No words.
Just stillness.
Then a nod.
"Welcome back," he said gently.
Lyena looked around, confused.
"How… long?"
Isara opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Serenya stepped forward and held Lyena's hand.
Solarin sat beside the bed.
"A year," he said softly.
"You've been resting."
Lyena didn't speak again for a while.
Not because she was afraid.
But because she was listening to the silence inside her — and realizing it had changed.
Outside the window, the garden was blooming.
Inside the room, something stronger than fate was awakening.
End of Chapter 17 – The Year That Slept