{ "Before there can be wonders, there must be wonder." }
SIERRA'S POV
The rain tapped gently against the windows, a soft, steady rhythm that hushed the house. I sat cross-legged on the rug by the fire, tracing idle patterns in the worn wood floor, the warmth from the hearth brushing against my skin. For once, it was quiet, no frantic knocks, no urgent summons. Just me, the crackle of the flames, and the slow, sweet pull of magic waking up inside me.
I smiled, feeling the Mira stir not in warning, but in something softer, lighter.
"Alright," I whispered, tilting my head back. "Show me."
The pendant at my throat warmed, a familiar, comforting pulse. Threads of silver light unspooled from my fingertips, twinning in the air, weaving the world I could not see with my eyes alone. And there he was—Frery, my only son.
