The salt-sweet scent of the sea drifts through the warm air of Elfhelm, mingling with the song of distant waves and rustling leaves. Everything is bathed in an otherworldly glow, soft and surreal. I stand on the hill, wind tugging at my cape, armor biting into my shoulders. The weight I’ve carried for so long sits heavier than ever, pressing down on my chest as I look at her.

Casca.

She’s here, standing before me—whole again. Not lost behind hollow eyes, not shattered by the nightmares that once held her. Her gaze meets mine, and in it, I see everything we’ve been through: pain, betrayal, hope clinging by frayed threads. My throat tightens. I want to speak, to say something that could make it right. Apologize for failing her, for dragging her through hell. But the words stick, heavy and useless.

She trembles, hesitating, and I see it—she doesn’t know what to do either. Maybe we’re both too scarred, too burdened by what’s been lost and broken. The silence stretches, thick with everything we’ve left unsaid.

So I do the only thing I can.

I open my arms.

It’s a small, raw gesture, but it’s all I have. Vulnerable and exposed, I stand there, waiting. For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then, like a dam breaking, she steps forward and collapses against me. Her face presses into my chest, her shoulders shaking as tears soak through my tunic. The sound of her sobs cuts through me, sharper than any blade.

“You’re still here,” she whispers, her voice fragile and raw.

The ache in my chest twists into something fierce and unwavering. I tighten my arms around her, holding her as close as I dare, as if I can shield her from the past, from everything that’s ever hurt her. My voice is rough when I finally speak.

“Always.”

It’s not a grand promise—it’s a truth. One I’ve fought through blood and darkness to keep. And for the first time in years, I believe it.