The sea was still, too still.
Lina sat on the shore, knees drawn up, her hair damp from the fog.
The waves rolled in lazily, then withdrew, as if they no longer wanted to touch the world.
Behind her lay the city – a silhouette of broken glass and golden remnants that glowed like scars.
She turned around. Alaric still lay where she had found him.
The sand had settled around his figure, as if the earth refused to let him go.
His breathing was calm, steady, but each rise of his chest reminded her of the rift that remained between them.
She went to him, knelt down, placed two fingers on his neck. Pulse.
Slow. Human.
But beneath it, something vibrated – barely perceptible, like the shadow of a second heart.
"You're here," she whispered.
His eyelids twitched, then he opened his eyes. Gray, clear, exhausted.
"How long...?"
"Half a day, maybe."
He sat up, supporting himself on his hands. "I remember light. And you."
"Anything else?"
