Chapter 42 The Weight Of Fire

• The camp was too quiet that night. Not the peace of victory, not the hush of safety—but the kind of silence that came after survival. When no one knew what tomorrow would ask from them.
• Elira sat alone on a stone near the edge of the encampment. The fires had burned low, and her hands still tingled with heat that hadn’t left her since the battle. She stared at her palms, faint trails of ash still etched along her skin like veins of ember.
• “I nearly lost control again,” she murmured.