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The journey back took two days - slow, unhurried, with stops to let the wounded rest, to bury the fallen, to let the Zodiac disperse messages across the realm that the danger was past, that the door was closed, that the world was safe. There was no rush. No deadline. No enemy waiting. For the first time, they travelled not as an army going to war, but as a people coming home.

When the spires of Blackwood Stronghold rose over the treeline, the vanguard sent word ahead. But Aria already knew. She felt it through the bond, through the hum of the wards, through the faint, bright tug of...