The morning after their descent into the cavern, the Blackwood camp was unusually quiet. The forest seemed to breathe more easily now, its whispers faint and tentative, as if testing the edges of its newfound freedom. But while the shadow’s heart was destroyed, its lingering presence was etched into every scarred tree, every blackened patch of earth.

Lyla sat alone at the edge of the camp, staring out into the forest. Her hands rested on her knees, trembling faintly from exhaustion. The ...