The first pale light of dawn spilled over the snow-covered ridges of Frostspire Peak. The cold was still sharp, but the storm had passed, leaving the world in an eerie, crystalline calm.
Noel was already awake.
He sat against a low outcrop of rock, cloak pulled close around him. In his lap, Noir lay curled up, small and warm, her breathing slow and steady.
Across the small camp, Selene still slept, her body half-covered by her cloak. Her hood had slipped back sometime in the night, revealing loose strands of blue hair that framed her face.
Even in the dim light, the faint traces of yesterday's tears were still visible beneath her closed eyes.
Noel watched in silence.
He made no move to disturb her.
'She looks better now. This is good. I might have to deal with Lady Vaelora later… but this—this is better. Maybe not for the story, but for me. And for Selene too. This way atleast I could see myself in the mirror.'
