Kaelen's POV
The Seer's private chamber smelled of sage and something older, more primal—a scent that seemed to seep from the very walls. I placed the three rejection letters on her worn oak table, the same yellowed papers that had poisoned our minds for years.
"These are them," I said, my voice rough. "The letters that made us..." I couldn't finish. How could I summarize the years of cruelty, the systematic destruction of the one person we should have cherished above all?
The ancient woman's milky eyes didn't focus on the papers, but her gnarled fingers traced their edges with surprising precision. My brothers stood behind me, tension radiating from their bodies like heat.
"You were right to bring these to me," she murmured.
She arranged the letters in a triangle pattern, then reached for a small leather pouch hanging from her belt. With practiced movements, she sprinkled what looked like crushed herbs and fine crystals around the perimeter, forming an unbroken circle.
