The road north wound through forests older than memory.
Pines stretched toward the heavens like the pillars of a forgotten cathedral, their emerald crowns weaving together until only scattered ribbons of sunlight reached the earth below.
The air was cool beneath their branches.
Everything smelled of rain, moss, and living wood.
Arenne breathed deeply.
"I know this forest."
Lysander glanced toward her.
"You've been here before?"
She nodded.
"Long before there were kingdoms."
She reached out, her fingertips grazing the rough bark of an ancient pine.
"I planted the first seeds."
Lysander stopped walking.
"You planted… the entire forest?"
Arenne smiled sheepishly.
"I had rather more time in those days."
He laughed.
"I keep forgetting."
"So do I."
⸻
The deeper they traveled, the quieter the forest became.
No birds sang.
No insects hummed.
Even the breeze seemed reluctant to disturb the towering trees.
Lysander rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword.
"Does this feel strange to you?"
Arenne closed her eyes.
"It feels…"
She searched for the right word.
"…watchful."
As if thousands of unseen eyes followed every step they took.
Not with hostility.
With curiosity.
⸻
By afternoon they reached a small clearing where an old stone well stood beneath a great cedar.
Its rope had long since rotted away.
Wild ivy covered its crumbling walls.
Someone had carved unfamiliar symbols into the stone centuries ago.
Arenne knelt beside it.
"I remember when this wasn't here."
She peered into the darkness below.
Water shimmered far beneath the surface.
Clear.
Still.
Like polished glass.
Then—
A face stared back.
Not her reflection.
Elowen.
Arenne inhaled sharply.
The image smiled.
Gentle.
Loving.
Gone.
She blinked.
The water rippled.
Only her own reflection remained.
Lysander noticed the change in her expression.
"What did you see?"
After a long silence, she answered.
"A memory that wanted to become a ghost."
⸻
They decided to rest beneath the cedar.
Lysander gathered fallen branches while Arenne wandered through the clearing.
A patch of tiny blue flowers caught her attention.
She knelt.
"They're blooming too early."
"You know flowers now?"
She smiled over her shoulder.
"I've always known flowers."
She carefully brushed a petal with one finger.
"When I ruled the heavens, every blossom opened because I willed it."
"And now?"
"They bloom because they choose to."
She looked strangely pleased by the thought.
"I think I prefer it this way."
⸻
As evening approached, clouds gathered above the forest.
A light rain began to fall.
Lysander quickly raised a canvas shelter between two trees.
"There."
He stepped back proudly.
"It should keep us dry."
Arenne studied the simple structure with fascination.
"You built that rather quickly."
"My father taught me."
She stepped inside.
Rain tapped softly against the stretched fabric overhead.
The small shelter felt warm despite the weather.
"It feels…"
She looked around.
"…safe."
"It is."
She smiled.
"I've never lived somewhere so small."
Lysander laughed.
"I doubt your palace could fit inside this forest."
"No."
She looked thoughtfully at the little shelter.
"But I think this shelter could fit inside my heart."
⸻
The rain continued long into the evening.
They shared dried fruit, cheese, and the last of the baker's bread.
Arenne ate slowly.
Every meal still felt miraculous.
Halfway through supper, she paused.
"Lysander?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
He looked puzzled.
"For what?"
"For teaching me."
"I haven't taught you very much."
"You've taught me how to laugh."
She smiled softly.
"How to build a fence."
"How to drink tea."
"How to dance badly."
He grinned.
"You weren't that bad."
"I was terrible."
"You were."
She laughed.
"And somehow that made me happy."
⸻
Night settled over the forest.
Rain drifted into a gentle mist.
The fire crackled between them.
For a long while neither spoke.
Then Arenne quietly asked,
"Lysander…"
"Yes?"
"When I was the Eternal Queen…"
She hesitated.
"Were you afraid of me?"
He stared into the flames before answering.
"Yes."
She lowered her eyes.
"I thought so."
"But…"
He looked at her.
"I admired you too."
"You did?"
"You were everything I believed a god should be."
He smiled sadly.
"I just never imagined a god could become… this."
She looked genuinely curious.
"This?"
"A woman sitting beside a campfire arguing about whether bread tastes better warm than cold."
She laughed.
"It does."
"It absolutely does."
Their laughter mingled with the rain.
⸻
Far above the treetops, hidden behind drifting clouds, something moved.
Not a bird.
Not a dragon.
Something vast enough that the stars disappeared behind its passing shadow.
It made no sound.
It did not descend.
It merely watched.
Deep within the forest, every wolf suddenly lifted its head.
Every owl fell silent.
Every deer fled without knowing why.
Arenne looked toward the dark canopy.
Her smile slowly faded.
"Did you feel that?"
Lysander rose immediately.
"What?"
She listened.
Her now-mortal heart beat steadily.
Nothing seemed out of place.
Yet the instinct remained.
Like the sensation of standing at the edge of an unseen cliff.
She whispered almost to herself,
"…Someone is looking for me."
High above the clouds, two immense golden eyes opened in the darkness.
Patient.
Ancient.
Awake at last.
And for the first time in countless ages…
they looked upon a queen who could bleed.