The fire crackled in the hearth as night fell over Rourke's secluded estate. The snowfall had not ceased, and now the house was blanketed in white silence. Within its halls, warmth and unease mingled like smoke.
Kaen sat in the den, shadows curling beneath his fingertips. He wasn't shaping them consciously—they simply responded to his thoughts, memories that clawed from a past older than most stars.
Zian stepped into the room, a mug of tea in her hand. She hesitated at the doorway before sitting beside him on the long sofa.
"You've been quiet all evening," she said, her tone light.
Kaen gave her a side glance. "So have you."
"I keep seeing things," she admitted. "Flashes. Wings made of gold. A battlefield in the sky. I don't know what they mean."
Kaen's gaze returned to the flames. "Memories have a habit of resurfacing when the world slows down."
Zian studied him, her golden eyes faintly glowing in the firelight. "Do you know what I was before this?"
He didn't answer. Not with words. But a flicker of something—sorrow? Regret?—passed through his expression.
"That's not a no," she whispered. "So you do know."
"You're not ready to remember it all," Kaen said, voice softer now. "But you will. Soon."
Footsteps echoed from the hall. Lirien entered, towel draped around her neck, fresh from a hot spring behind the house. She caught sight of Kaen and Zian, a flicker of emotion passing through her. Jealousy? Curiosity? She wasn't sure.
"I thought everyone was asleep," Lirien said, eyes narrowing as she approached.
Kaen turned toward her. "Couldn't sleep."
She smirked. "You're not the type who sleeps much, are you?"
Kaen shrugged. "What would I dream of?"
Zian rose, sensing the moment was shifting. "I'll leave you two to it."
After she left, Lirien sat where Zian had been.
"You care about her," Lirien said bluntly.
Kaen looked at her—truly looked at her—for the first time that night. "She was once light in a world made of ash."
"And me?" Lirien asked, her voice low.
Kaen leaned closer. "You're still deciding what you want to become."
For a moment, the shadows and fire danced across her crimson eyes. She didn't move away.
In the silence that followed, Rourke watched from the hallway, unseen.
He nodded once to himself. "They're changing," he muttered. "All of them. Just like before."