Chapter 120Elodie

Morning in the valley didn’t arrive with bells or commands.

It arrived with sound.

Steel striking steel. Low voices calling corrections. Laughter—rare, sharp, real. Smoke curled upward from cooking fires, carrying the scent of herbs and something rich simmering in iron pots. The air felt alive, not pressed flat by rules.

I woke to it all with a jolt, heart racing, half-expecting stone walls and watching eyes.

Instead, sunlight spilled through the narrow opening of the ...