I remember the look on Father Orrick’s face as the resonance spiraled beyond his control. Horror arrived too late, only after he realized the bell would kill human and dark elf alike without distinction.
“What will they do with him?” I ask.
“Strip his authority completely,” Brohm says. “Council already removed him from temple leadership.”
Vi exhales slowly before adding, “Some wanted exile.”
Roseth looks down at her hands.
“He lost his family during the Kantor massacres,” she says quietly. “Hatred was all he had left.”
No one answers immediately.
Pain like that rots if left untouched long enough. I know that too well.
Brohm eventually clears his throat awkwardly. “Anyway, Bellmere still stands. Which means Vi can continue yelling at me for another fifty years.”
Sylvi elbows him sharply despite the laugh escaping her.
“You deserved every argument.”
Their eyes meet.
Something softer settles between them now, stripped clean of the sharp pride that used to poison every conversation. The chaos nearly took them from each other last night. Neither seems willing to waste more time pretending otherwise.
Roseth notices it too.
A small smile touches her mouth briefly before she looks away.
Vi catches it immediately.
“Oh, Rose is smiling now.” She points dramatically toward me. “This is your fault somehow.”
“It usually is,” Roseth mutters.
Brohm grabs Vi by the sleeve before she can continue tormenting us. “We should help clear debris before Bellmere collapses a second time.”
“You are ruining my fun.”
“I am saving Khaivor’s life.”
They disappear laughing through the forge door.
Quiet returns slowly afterward.
Roseth begins reorganizing herbs beside the workbench, though her movements seem slower now that everyone else is gone.
"You should rest," I tell her.
"So should you," she returns, not looking up.
"I already rested."
"You were unconscious." She sets a tool down. "That does not count."
I watch her for several long moments.
"You stayed," I say softly.
