The dawn broke quietly over the Strynott farm, the golden light spilling across the fields like a gentle promise of a new day. It was my last day here, and I couldn't shake the feeling of finality hanging over me.
For weeks, this farm had been my sanctuary. The endless days of labor, the nights of training with Rorik, the brief but precious moments with Emery—it had all shaped me. And now, I was preparing to leave it all behind.
But today wasn't about me. Today was about savoring the time I had left with Emery.
---
We spent the morning together, wandering through the fields and talking about everything and nothing. Emery's laughter filled the air as she recounted her many misadventures with Inga—how she'd spilled milk everywhere trying to learn how to milk a goat or nearly burned the bread while helping in the kitchen.
"I don't think I'm cut out for farm life," she joked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"You're doing better than I am," I said, smirking. "At least you haven't been yelled at for being too slow."
She rolled her eyes. "You're being too hard on yourself, as usual. Rorik just likes to grumble—it's his version of a compliment."
I chuckled, her words lightening the weight in my chest, if only for a moment.
---
As the day wore on, we found ourselves sitting under the shade of a tall oak tree. Emery leaned back against the trunk, her legs stretched out in front of her, her hands idly twisting a blade of grass.
"Do you think we'll ever go back to Earth?" she asked suddenly, her voice quiet.
I hesitated, the question catching me off guard. "I don't know," I admitted. "Sometimes, I think about it. But... I don't know if it's possible. And even if it is, I don't know if we'd be the same people when we got there."
She turned her gaze to me, her eyes searching. "Do you want to go back?"
I paused, considering my answer. "I don't know if it matters what I want," I said finally. "What matters is surviving here. We have to focus on the present, not what we've lost."
She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "I just... I hate that you're leaving tomorrow."
"Me too," I said, my voice soft. "But this is what I have to do. For both of us."
---
The afternoon sun was warm on my back as we helped Inga carry baskets of vegetables to the house. Emery was quiet, her usual energy subdued. I figured she was just tired—this whole situation had been weighing on both of us.
But as we reached the kitchen, she suddenly stopped.
"Logan," she said, her voice shaky. "Something's wrong."
I turned to her, my heart dropping as I saw her clutching her left arm. Her face had gone pale, beads of sweat forming on her brow.
"Emery?" I said, rushing to her side.
"I... I feel weird," she murmured, her voice faint.
Before I could say anything else, her arm began to glow.
---
The blue light radiated from beneath her sleeve, casting faint shadows on the walls. She stumbled, and I caught her just as Rorik and Inga burst into the room, Ulrik and Vidal close behind.
"It's happening," Vidal said, his eyes widening.
Emery winced, clutching her arm tighter, but she didn't collapse like I had. The glow began to fade, revealing an intricate spiral of blue marks winding up her arm.
"Is that..." Emery whispered, staring at her arm in disbelief.
I nodded, my throat tight. "You went through the changing."
Her mark wasn't as large as mine, but it was still impressive, stretching from her forearm almost to her shoulder.
Rorik let out a low whistle. "Didn't see that coming."
---
Emery looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder. "What does this mean?"
"We'll find out," I said, my voice steady.
Vidal stepped forward, pulling the Mana orb from his cloak. "Since we're here, we might as well test her," he said, his tone brisk.
Emery glanced at me, uncertainty flickering across her face. I gave her a reassuring nod. "Go ahead," I said.
She took the orb in her left hand, the faint blue glow reflecting in her wide eyes.
The room seemed to hold its breath as everyone watched, waiting for the results.