The forest had grown quiet again—but it was not peace. It was the hush before the world decides to live or die.
Lucky awoke beneath the Heartroot Tree, her body aglow with life-magic. Her skin shimmered with bark-like patterns, veins pulsing softly with green-gold light. Her wings no longer flapped—they unfolded like leaves in spring, moving with the rhythm of the forest itself.
She was the rhythm now.
Every tree whispered to her. Every seedling stirred when she breathed. Every fairy could feel her presence in the wind.
She had become more than Lucky.
She had become a living legend.