The pulse bikes hummed beneath them, kicking up dust and dusklight as the four riders sped along the winding path home.
The horizon had already begun to tint gold, washing the trees in warm flickers that danced across their cloaks.
Yolti clung tightly to Kaelen's back, her white braid trailing behind her like a comet's tail.
She muttered, "You know she only talks to Zephryn and Solara, right? I don't know why you keep trying."
"I wasn't trying," Kaelen muttered.
"Sure. You just happened to ask Selka what she thinks of the clouds."
"I like weather," he replied stiffly.
Yolti snorted and leaned in. "Mmhm. I'll believe that when she answers you back."
Up ahead, Zephryn and Selka shared the lead bike. She didn't speak, as usual, but Zephryn glanced back just long enough to offer Kaelen a grin.
The wind carried the sound of their laughter forward.
For a moment, it felt like the world had always been this way—peaceful, whole.
As if no one had ever whispered the word Fracture into the bones of the earth.