Chapter 47 Scars Of The Hollow

• The air was still.
• The Mirror Hollow, once a battlefield of shadows and fractured realities, now lay in serene silence. The rift had been sealed, but its scars remained—etched into stone, into memory, into flesh.
• Meher sat quietly by the ancient dais, her fingers tracing the sigils that no longer pulsed with dark energy but with something gentler—healing, perhaps. But the weight of what had transpired clung to her like a second skin.