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By the time they reached the lower slopes and found shelter in a more solid croft, the first sharp edge of panic had faded from Elara’s eyes - replaced by something sharper, harder, and instantly familiar. She watched Aria move - the way she scanned every shadow before stepping past it, the way she kept her weight balanced so she could pivot or strike in any direction, the way she never turned her back on an open door or an untrusted space. Elara stopped mid-step, her head tilting just so, and let out a short, dry laugh.

“You’re one of us,” she said. “Or you were. Before all this.”...