Ash and Seed
They stayedinthe clearing until the second sunrise.
Not because they had to.
But because no one could move.
The forest had quieted, holding its breath as if afraid any sudden motion would awaken the Hollow again. The Gate was closed, the light gone, but its memory hung heavy in the air—like smoke after a fire.
Echo slept, cradled in a nest of golden roots. His breathing was steady, if shallow. The vines no longer fought. They simply held.
Cuco sat beside him, silent.
His blade—buried.
The Tome—sealed.
And yet, both hummed at the edge of his senses like distant thunder.
Isabela crouched nearby, one hand brushing the bark of a glowing root. "You changed the forest," she murmured. "It's… alive in a different way now."
"It's listening," Cuco said, without looking up. "It always was. But now it knows us."
Nox paced the edge of the clearing, gaze sharp. "And what does it hear? That we almost destroyed each other? That we let the Hollow in through one of our own?"
"No," Cuco said softly. "It hears that we stopped it. Together."
---
Later, Echo stirred.
His eyes opened—clear this time. Tired. Human.
But his first words weren't to Cuco.
They were to the roots around him.
"Did it hurt them?" he asked. "What I did?"
Cuco nodded, barely.
"But they're still standing."
Echo closed his eyes again. "Then I want to stay. Not to fight. To heal."
"You will," Cuco said.
And the roots pulsed—gentle as breath.
---
Back at the Circle, the survivors took stock.
Four Dreamers remained shaken, but alive.
The rest had fled.
The Council was gone.
And the sanctuary once built to protect the dreaming world now stood cracked and empty. Vines covered its outer walls, not in conquest—but in mourning.
Tariq stood in the center chamber, staring at the broken chair where Cuco once sat.
He traced a finger along the scorched floor, then turned to face the others.
"We start over," he said. "No more secrets. No more rituals rooted in fear."
Nox, arms crossed, nodded. "We rebuild. But we don't forget."
Isabela looked to the horizon, where the forest shimmered with new green light. "The Hollow isn't done."
"No," Tariq said. "But neither are we."
---
That night, Cuco returned.
He didn't say anything at first.
He just stood at the Circle's edge, watching the Dreamers rebuild.
No one asked where he'd gone.
They only asked—
"Are you staying?"
Cuco's answer was quiet, but certain.
"For now."
And then he turned to the tree that had grown where his blade was planted.
It was young.
But strong.
And its roots ran deep.
> "Let them come," Cuco whispered to the wind.
"We've already begun to grow."