"She was there," he said softly, stepping forward.
Salviana's breath caught. "You saved her; thank you"
"I felt her. She was waiting. Just needed us to come back for her."
A sob escaped her throat, muffled by her hand. "I'm happy you're back," she whispered, tears sliding silently down her cheeks—but this time, not from grief.
Alaric gently touched her face, brushing one away. "You saved us. You brought us back."
Behind them, Lucius finally collapsed onto the damp grass, legs sprawled like a man who had just escaped the underworld itself. Jean was up.
His eyes had followed the retreating fog, its slow crawl back across the lake—less like smoke now and more like a living thing. A creature slinking back to sleep.
A sudden cough broke the stillness—wet and gasping.
"Jean!" Salviana scrambled forward, eyes wide as she stirred on the ground in Lucius's arms. Her body was cold, her breaths shallow, but she was alive.
