Cruzer exhaled, letting the weight of Elara's words settle. Now we shape people.
The phrase lingered, not as a command, but a truth already unfolding in quiet glances, shared meals, moments between moments. It wasn't grand declarations or banners waving against the sky. It was slower than that. Deeper. It was in how the teens carried their tools differently now—like instruments, not weapons. In how they asked questions, not to challenge, but to understand. In how they listened.
By late afternoon, the terraces glowed with subtle life—not from spells, but from intention. Lanterns made from dried gourds flickered with candlelight. Chalk patterns snaked across stones, winding between bundles of herbs, knotted threads, and small stones bearing etchings of old words rediscovered in worn books.
