IVY

The world came back slowly.

First as sound — wind through pine, Leon whispering my name, Thorne barking distant orders.

Then warmth — his arms wrapped around me, shielding me from the cold mountain stone.

And finally... pain.

Not the sharp kind.

The kind that lives in memory. In sacrifice.

I opened my eyes and gasped as the full weight of what I had done pressed into my chest.

The memory was gone.

My father, that last quiet moment in the field — erased.

And yet...

The relic was shattered.

The crown, broken.

And beneath my trembling hand, my child stirred.

Alive.

Still here.

Still fighting.

The Descent from...