Umbrael—no, Auralis—remained beneath the new sapling, guarded not by warriors, but by songbirds.
He slept for three days, breathing slowly, light pulsing faintly from his skin.
On the fourth day, he opened his eyes.
They were no longer silver voids, but storm-gray, rimmed with green.
He spoke softly when Lucky approached.
"I remember building the stars," he said. "I remember singing life into the skies. I remember watching them fall. And I remember… being afraid."
Lucky sat beside him.
"We were all afraid," she replied. "But you don't have to be anymore."
He looked down at his chest, where the seed had bloomed into a single leaf over his heart.
"Thank you," he said, and for once, the words were not hollow. They were a beginning.