Chapter 74: Embers of Humanity
By dusk, Evershade Hollow breathed again.
Not easily. Not cleanly. But breath is breath—even if the lungs ache.
We set a watch and lit soft lanterns along the skeletons of streets. Gaia coaxed glowmoss from cracks in the ruined cobbles, its bioluminescent veins threading pale green through the dark. Thaddeus reinforced rebuilt roofs with braided root-ribs. Santina cast a veil of concealment over the clearing to blur our outline from prying eyes. Ruby—pretending she wasn’t enjoying it—was teaching the children how to flick pebbles into a bucket with paper cones. They adored her. She called them “gremlins” and then secretly handed out candied nuts.
And Helios… stood alone at the edge of the hollow, hands bandaged, gaze lifted to a sky bruised purple.
He ha
