Cyd had been found— but the world they knew was falling apart.

Occtis was gone. The Golden Orchard was gone. The Royce family—gone. Thajzi too, taken away like smoke in the wind. They had lost Cyd and Lady Aranessa’s brother after the chaos at the castle, and now Thimble, once the indomitable heart of their band, could barely hold herself upright.

The Candle Fest’s Eve should have brought warmth and laughter, but as they trudged the muddy road back toward the town, there was only cold drizzle and the dim flicker of lanterns ahead. Thimble perched on Teor’s shoulder, her soaked wings clinging to her like wilted leaves. She grasped the edge of his metal shoulder plate for balance, too tired to even flutter.

She had been a tempest in battle—ruthless, brilliant, unrelenting. Against the basilisk she’d fought like wildfire, cutting down Tyranny’s illusions after his doomed masquerade as Occtis. None had matched her speed, her fire, her fury. And yet, even the brightest flames must burn themselves out.

Now, her glow was dimmed. The air was heavy with the ache of loss. They entered Arderin, a quiet town nestled deep in the Vallow plains, where festival ribbons sagged in the rain and laughter was a memory carried off by the wind. The road stretched ahead still, longer than their strength could bear, and night crept down faster than they’d feared.

“We should find someplace to rest.” Kattigan murmured, breaking the silence.

Teor only nodded. “Yeah.”

From his shoulder came a small, weary voice—soft and trembling, so unlike the fearless pixie they knew.

“I’ll… try.”