Enya's question hung in the bright air for a long moment.
When you were… Still alive?
Her mother lowered her gaze, not in a way that felt heavy, and not in a way that tried to hide sadness. It was almost calm.
She still smiled.
"Yes" she whispered. "I dealt with a lot of them."
Enya's shoulders loosened with relief so fast it felt embarrassing. She didn't even know what she expected - tears, maybe, or silence, or her mother pretending she didn't hear. Instead, the answer came simple, like a fact you accepted and moved on from.
And then her mother's mouth curved into a small, cheeky grin.
"Imagine this" she said, as if she wanted to make the story fun on purpose. "You're holding the last strategic point, and you're completely surrounded by Nyxes. Not the scattered ones. Not the ones that sniff around and retreat. A full wave. They circled you like water circling a drain, and every time you looked down, there were just more coming."
