Years slipped away like sand through the fingers of time, soft yet unrelenting. The grief that once consumed Jerrick's heart had not entirely faded, but it had dulled into something more bearable—a companion that lived in the quiet corners of his soul.
The sanctuary he built for Jessamyn became his refuge, a place where the winds whispered her name and the earth seemed to pulse with the memory of her. He visited every spring, laying flowers where she had given her life, watching over the valley she once loved.
On the third spring after her death, something miraculous happened. Small green shoots broke through the soil, the land responding as if it had been touched by Jessamyn's essence. The valley, once barren and lifeless, began to hum with renewal.
