Elara blinked.
The memory peeled away slow, like frost melting from glass.
He was like my own father, she thought. The ache beneath her ribs came back full force.
"Your dad…" she started. Her voice caught. She forced it steady. "He was amazing."
She didn't look at Elias right away.
"I remember him fixing my comm once. Like it was nothing. I thought it was fried—he got it working with some half-bent tool and a gum wrapper, I swear."
Her fingers curled against her thigh. The words stuck for a second.
"Said I'd do big things. And it sounded real when he said it. Like I would. He had this way… he made you believe in yourself."
Elias sat still. His breath shallow.
The name Dorian hadn't echoed in years. Not like this. But now it came back sharp—carved with weight.
The shard pulsed. Colder.
"Do you think he's still alive?" he asked, voice low, almost hoarse.
Elara hesitated.
