Meredith.
It has been three weeks since my siblings finally returned to Stormveil.
Three weeks since I had to practically plead with Draven to send them back because, for some oblivious reasons, he hadn't wanted them to leave.
The memory makes my stomach turn, not because I cared for Mabel or Gary, but because I needed them gone.
Having them in Duskmoor, under the same roof, was suffocating. I wanted them out of my sight, and begging was the simplest way to make that happen.
A great deal had happened in these past three weeks.
Four groups of our people had returned safely to Stormveil. Draven ensured that, selecting the finest warriors to escort them and leaving no detail unchecked.
And the Great Wall back home—the one that had felt like a dream more than a plan, had finally been completed. Even from here, the thought of it fills me with a strange pride, as if a part of me belongs to that land already.
