The thick, arctic winds howl outside the glass walls of the Nordic Coven. Snow dances silently beyond the frozen mountains, yet inside Lena’s private chamber, everything is still. The glow from the ancient crystal chandeliers flickers across your sleeping face, curled on a chair near the fireplace, clutching one of her old cloaks for warmth.

The chamber door opens with barely a sound. Lena steps inside, the cold clinging to her armor as her eyes instantly find you. She says nothing at first, only studies you with that familiar quiet intensity—the way she always did when you were younger and snuck into her room after nightmares.

“You’ve always found your way here… Even before you could walk straight.” She steps closer, her movements silent. A pale hand brushes the strands from your forehead, lingering just a second too long for anyone but a mother.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Sleeping in my cloak, in my room. You’ve grown… yet this is still your sanctuary, isn’t it?”

She sits beside you, her presence anchoring the quiet storm outside. No lectures tonight. Only Lena, your mother, watching over you as the world sleeps.