Lenora drew a breath, preparing to continue.
It caught in her throat.
The cold gathering around them had changed.
It was no longer Crysha's familiar winter chill—the clean, controlled cold that followed the Ice Empress wherever she walked. This cold felt bitter. It crawled through the grass, climbed the surrounding trees, and froze the scented vapor in place.
Lenora turned toward her aunt.
Crysha sat with her head lowered. Her hair had fallen across her face, hiding her eyes. Frost spread from beneath her feet in uneven waves, responding to emotions Crysha was no longer controlling.
Then Lenora heard her muttering.
"Scum."
The word was barely audible.
"Worthless scum."
Lenora's ears lowered.
Crysha was not condemning John.
She was not speaking about the guards or the men who had imprisoned Lenora.
She was speaking about herself.
"You watched her from afar," Crysha whispered. "You saw her enter that kingdom, and you did nothing."
The frost thickened.
"You never checked on her. You never went inside. Your sister's child was violated and killed while you remained outside."
Crysha's fingernails dug into her palms.
"You complete scum."
"Auntie…"
"Some aunt you are."
The frozen vapor cracked around them.
"Volkra is going to be furious. Jinxi is going to lose control. Eclipsa is going to—"
Crysha could not finish the sentence.
A tear slipped from beneath her hair and froze against her cheek. Another fell into her lap as a tiny piece of ice.
Lenora moved in front of her.
"Auntie, look at me."
Crysha continued staring at the ground.
"You saw the gate," she muttered. "You knew she entered. You should have followed her."
"Auntie."
"You should have protected her."
Lenora grabbed Crysha's shoulders.
The cold bit into her palms, but she refused to release her.
"Auntie, snap out of it!"
She shook Crysha hard enough to make the frozen tears fall from her face.
Crysha's eyes finally focused.
For several seconds, she appeared not to recognize Lenora. Then she looked at the hands holding her shoulders and slowly lifted her head.
The frost stopped advancing.
It did not melt.
"I don't know how to handle this," Crysha admitted.
Her voice sounded broken.
"I don't want to believe it."
Lenora released her.
"A god died," Crysha continued. "That is unheard of."
"I died."
Crysha flinched.
"You heard my story," Lenora said. "They killed me."
"But gods do not simply die in human captivity."
"I never took the God Test."
Crysha stared at her.
Lenora's jaw tightened.
"I was born into godhood, but my natural divine power was never activated. I left Carrot Field before taking the test."
Crysha stood.
"Then what have you been using?"
Lenora did not answer immediately.
"The crimson swords," Crysha pressed. "The speed, the strength, the transformation that destroyed seven kingdoms—if your own authority was never awakened, where did that power come from?"
"Seven."
Crysha stopped.
She had said the number without thinking, the way one recites something learned from a report. Hearing it aloud in front of the woman who had done it made it a different word entirely.
"Seven kingdoms," she said again, quieter.
"Seven," Lenora agreed.
She did not soften it.
Then she touched her lower back.
"And the power came from the person I encountered in the Soul Seam."
The answer landed between them like something heavy.
Crysha shook her head.
"No."
"You asked for the truth."
"Some mysterious figure cannot return a soul to its body and grant it power."
"But it did."
"No."
Crysha began pacing.
"Resurrection requires divine authority. Altering a bloodline requires authority. Creating a permanent crest on someone's soul requires a recognized faction bond."
Lenora's ears drew backward.
"Then its ability must be similar to the abilities of the gods."
Crysha stopped and faced her.
"That is impossible."
Lenora's sadness began hardening into anger.
"You wanted my side of the story. I gave it to you."
"I am not calling you a liar."
"You keep telling me that everything I experienced was impossible."
"Because it should be!"
Crysha's voice cracked through the forest. Ice burst from the ground around her boots.
Lenora stood.
"I was the one chained to that bed. I was the one who died. I was the one dragged through the Soul Seam."
Her crimson eyes locked onto Crysha's blue ones.
"You do not get to tell me it could not have happened because it does not fit what the gods believe."
Crysha went still.
Lenora's breathing had become heavier.
"What matters right now is that I came back," she continued. "I got to see everyone again."
Her voice softened, but the anger remained beneath it.
"I got to see Mother. Volkra. Jinxi."
She looked directly at Crysha.
"I got to see you."
Crysha's eyes moved toward Lenora's lower back.
Then she abruptly crossed the distance between them.
Before Lenora could react, Crysha grabbed her and turned her around.
"What are you—"
Crysha lifted the back of Lenora's skirt.
"Auntie!"
Lenora's scream sent birds scattering from the trees.
But it was not the scream of someone embarrassed.
Her whole body went rigid. Her hands snapped backward and crimson light burst around them, and for one moment she was not in a forest with her aunt at all — she was somewhere with stone walls and a chain bolted into them, unable to move, unable to see who was behind her, and every muscle she had went to work on the only problem that had ever mattered in that room.
"Don't hold me down."
Crysha let go instantly.
She stepped back so fast she nearly went into the fire.
Lenora dragged her skirt into place and spun around with her hands still glowing and her breathing coming in short bursts through her teeth.
The frost around Crysha's boots had stopped spreading entirely.
She had gone white.
"Lenora."
"Don't."
"I did not think." Crysha's voice was barely above the fire. "I am four thousand years old and I did not think."
She lowered herself back onto the log, which put her below Lenora, which she did on purpose.
"You told me an hour ago that they held you still," she said. "And I heard it. And then I put my hands on you and held you still."
Lenora said nothing.
The crimson light around her fingers guttered, flickered, and went out.
"I am sorry." Crysha did not look away while she said it. "That was not a kindness and it was not urgency. That was me needing to see something more than I needed to ask you first."
Lenora's arms came up and folded across her chest.
She stayed standing.
"Ask me," she said.
Crysha closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she asked.
"What does it look like?"
Lenora let out a long breath through her nose. She turned halfway, took hold of the fabric herself, and lifted it — an inch, and only for as long as she chose to.
A Dragon-Wolf stood at the center of the mark.
Small red chains surrounded the creature, winding around its body without completely restraining it. The mark looked neither painted nor branded. It appeared woven into Lenora's body, as if it had always belonged there.
Lenora let the fabric fall.
She stood there for a second with her hand still on it.
"Chains," she said slowly.
Crysha looked up.
"That's what pulled me." Lenora's voice had changed. "In the Soul Seam. Before I saw any of them, before the rabbit spoke — something came out of the dark and wrapped around me and dragged me."
She turned to face her aunt fully.
"It was a red chain."
Neither of them said anything for a while.
The fire moved.
"Does it burn when Derpy is near?" Crysha finally asked.
Lenora froze.
"No."
Crysha looked at her.
Lenora crossed her arms again.
"It doesn't."
"Your left ear bends when you lie to family."
Lenora's hand immediately rose to straighten it.
Crysha's expression hardened.
"It burns around him."
Lenora looked away.
Crysha took a slow breath.
"We stood inside an Emporium operated by wendigos who worship the Dragon-Wolf God. They called Derpy their god, and you are carrying their crest."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"It proves enough for me to ask."
Crysha moved closer, but Lenora stepped back.
Crysha stopped.
She did not try again.
"Your mother is going to want blood."
Lenora's ears rose.
"Whose?"
"Whoever placed that crest on you."
"I agreed to it."
"You agreed while dead, frightened, and desperate to see your family again."
"He warned me there would be a price."
"You asked him whether you had a choice."
Lenora fell silent.
Crysha had remembered the exact words.
"That does not sound like a free decision," Crysha said.
"It was more choice than anyone in that kingdom gave me."
Crysha recoiled as though Lenora had struck her.
Silence pressed between them.
Lenora turned away first.
"Why does the crest matter so much?"
"Because it should not exist."
"It clearly does."
"Not among our people."
Crysha gestured toward the place where the mark was concealed — a gesture this time, nothing more.
"The Dragon-Wolf crest belongs to the wendigo faction. Their clan worships the Dragon-Wolf God, but you received its active crest before that god was physically born."
Crysha's voice became sharper as fear overtook her guilt.
"That means something claimed you from outside the recognized factions before you were old enough to choose."
Lenora turned back toward her.
"My mother sent me into the world before I was ready."
"She still wanted the faction choice to belong to you."
Crysha touched the emblem representing her own allegiance.
"You could have joined the Frozen Flower with me."
She raised another finger.
"The Chaos Flower with Jinxi."
Another.
"Volkra's Burning Rose. Your mother's Blood-Thorn Lotus. Any recognized faction willing to accept you."
Lenora stared at her.
"I was dead."
Crysha's hand dropped.
"I was dead," Lenora repeated. "There were no faction representatives waiting to explain their traditions. There was no test. There was no ceremony."
Her voice rose.
"There was only a dead rabbit who wanted to see her family again!"
The frozen vapor shattered.
Tiny crystals rained between them.
"I chose to live," Lenora said. "Why isn't that enough?"
"Because I wish you had never been forced to make that choice!"
Crysha's answer came just as loudly.
The forest fell silent.
Neither woman moved.
Lenora's anger remained in her face, but her voice became quiet.
"Are you not happy that I'm here?"
Crysha's expression changed.
"That I'm alive?" Lenora asked.
The question hurt more than the shouting had.
The ice surrounding Crysha began to melt.
"Yes," she answered.
Lenora waited.
"Yes, I am happy you are alive," Crysha repeated. "More than I can explain."
"Then why do you keep making me feel as if I returned incorrectly?"
Crysha lowered her eyes.
"Because I wish things had not happened this way."
Her voice trembled.
"I wish I had followed you through those gates. I wish you had never met John. I wish you had never needed some unknown being's chains to find your way home."
Crysha looked back at Lenora.
"But none of that means I wish you had stayed dead."
The anger slowly left Lenora's shoulders.
Crysha took a step forward, then stopped herself. After what she had done, she seemed uncertain whether she had any right to touch her again — and this time she was correct to wonder, and she waited to be told.
Lenora noticed.
After a moment, she crossed the remaining distance herself.
She did not embrace Crysha.
She sat beside her on the log.
It was enough.
The scented vapor began moving again. Its frozen strands melted and curled around both women.
Lenora watched it gather above the open bottle.
"Do you still want to hear the rest of my story?"
Crysha closed her eyes.
"Yes."
"Even if it gets worse?"
Crysha opened them again.
"I want to hear what happened from you—not from rumours, records, or the people who judged you afterward."
Lenora placed her hand above the bottle.
The fragrance curled around her fingers.
"Then sit closer, Auntie."
Her ears lowered.
"Because the kingdom in the crater was the first one. It was not the worst one."