POV: Everly
The moon-vine petals were gone by morning. Swept away by someone's broom or scattered by the breeze. Either way, the trail was gone but not the feeling it left behind.
Eyes still followed her.
Not all. Not always.
But enough to make her walk faster.
Enough to make her feel seen.
And Everly hated it.
She offered to deliver the dried fireroot to the Seer herself that morning, not because she cared about the task, but because the path took her away from the crowded halls, out through the lower grounds, and into the edge of the forest.
Solitude had always been her sanctuary.
But today… it felt fragile.
The air held a quiet tension. Not sharp. Just watching.
By the time she reached the tree line, her chest ached with something tight and unnamable.
She crouched to set the wrapped bundle beneath the herb rack when a voice behind her murmured, "It's louder, isn't it?"
Everly straightened too quickly, hand at her chest.
Spirit sat on a smooth stone near the base of a crooked tree, arms folded loosely across her lap. Her head tilted, unreadable. Not smiling. Not grim.
Just there.
"You scared me," Everly muttered.
"Only because you're waiting to be scared." Spirit's tone was light, but her eyes were focused. Too focused.
Everly hesitated. "Shouldn't you be with the Seer?"
"She sleeps. Dreams better when I'm not around." Spirit stood, slow and deliberate, and gestured to the patch of grass beside her. "Sit."
Everly didn't move.
"I'm not going to bite you, Everly."
"That's not what I'm afraid of."
Spirit chuckled. "No. You're afraid of truth."
They sat in silence for a moment, one wrapped in ease, the other in caution.
Everly looked down at the earth. "They're watching me."
"Yes."
"They think I'm something I'm not."
"Do they?"
Everly glanced at her. "A girl like me doesn't glow. Doesn't have wolves or vines or whispers."
Spirit hummed. "But you do."
Everly flinched. "I didn't ask for it."
"No one ever does." Spirit leaned back on her hands, looking up at the canopy. "Still shows up anyway. Want is different."
Everly frowned. "What?"
Spirit sat up straighter. Her tone changed, still soft, but now sharp like a knife wrapped in silk. "What do you want, Everly?"
Everly blinked. "I don't.."
"Not what they expect. Not what your wolf wants. Not even what I see in you. What. Do. You. Want?"
The question hit harder than it should have. Everly tried to answer. She opened her mouth. Closed it.
Spirit watched her with gentle cruelty. "Want is the first thing they beat out of us," she said. "Reclaim it."
"I don't know how," Everly admitted, voice cracking.
"Start by naming it. Speak it, and it can't be taken so easily."
Everly shook her head. "Every time I've wanted something, it's been taken. My voice. My wolf. My mother…" She stopped.
Spirit's expression didn't change. "That's grief," she said. "But grief isn't a want. It's what's left behind. You're still here. So the question remains."
Silence again. The wind stirred the tall grass. Birds called distantly.
Everly wrapped her arms around her knees. "I want to matter. I want to choose. I want... to not be scared all the time." It was barely a whisper.
But it made Spirit smile. "Good."
She stood.
Everly looked up. "Is that it? You're just going to leave?"
"What else is there?" Spirit said, brushing off her hands. "You've already done the hardest part." She turned to leave but paused. Without looking back, she added: "Some say truth is power. But I've found desire is stronger. That's why they tried so hard to break yours." And then she was gone.
Everly sat alone.
The wind had stilled. The sounds of the forest grew quiet again.
In the silence, she heard Selene's voice, soft, somewhere between breath and heartbeat. "She asked the right question."
Everly closed her eyes and for the first time in a long while…
She didn't feel broken.
Just... unfinished.
And that, somehow, was enough.