Elias let out a breath—not through lungs, not physically. Just a mental release, like air pushed through thought.
"True," he said. "But knowing my luck, fighting's not far off."
He didn't push against it. Just closed his eyes again.
The sway of the bassinet pulled him down.
When he woke, the world had shifted again.
The calendar above him read Goldfall. The 15th was circled in blue ink. Three full months gone.
Ninety days.
The air felt different—drier, cooler, like the outside world had pulled its breath inward. A breeze carried in scents that didn't belong to summer anymore. Dried leaves. Cured meat. Something earthy.
The room hadn't changed, but it felt smaller.
More defined.
His body had weight now. Muscles had form. He shifted one arm toward the edge of the bassinet and pushed, slow and deliberate. The motion came stiff, but it was real. His elbow locked. His wrist held. The edge met his palm.
He didn't collapse.
He trembled.
