The air shifted as they stepped into the clearing, the dense thickets of Ashenfen giving way to an open space bathed in muted sunlight filtering through the canopy above. It was a strange contrast—the oppressive, shadowy forest retreating to reveal a serene meadow filled with delicate white flowers.
The Lily of the Valley.
They grew in small clusters, dotting the clearing like stars in the night sky. Their faint fragrance wafted on the breeze, subtle yet calming. Luke's gaze fell on them with awe, their quiet beauty belying the significance they carried. This was it—the boundary of Hematheas.
Ilyrana stood beside him, her breath catching as she looked upon the blossoms. Her silver-white hair shimmered in the light, her pointed ears twitching slightly as if straining to catch every sound. For her, this wasn't just a clearing; it was the edge of her past, her family, and the painful memories she had carried for so long.
