The moon hung low over the Crescent Moon valley, swollen and pale, glowing like a lantern suspended between the planes. The land beneath it pulsed with quiet magic, gentle now, in the aftermath of so much chaos.
Jax stood alone in the moonflower meadow. The silver blossoms glowed faintly in the darkness, like scattered stars breathing in sync with the wind.
He could feel her before she even arrived. Nyla. It was her birthday, what she assumed was her 18th. She wasn't sure exactly how old she was, as time progressed differently behind the veil where she had lived the early parts of her life.
The air shifted as she stepped into the clearing, her presence soft but unmistakable. She wore a long wrap of twilight-blue fabric, her bare feet silent in the grass. Her long dark hair was loose, tangled slightly from the wind, and her lavender eyes, just a shade lighter than his own, reflected the light of the moon.
"You said this place was sacred," she said quietly.
