When they returned to the healer's hut, the warm, herbal scent enveloped them, a stark contrast to the chill of the night outside. Hovan lay on the low cot, propped up slightly with mossy pillows. His pallor was stark against the muted green of the blankets draped over him, but his lips curled into a faint smile as they entered.

The auburn-haired healer who had tended to Hovan earlier appeared from a side room, carrying a small clay bowl of steaming liquid. Her sharp green eyes flicked between Raelyn and Corix before settling on Hovan.

"How is he?" Raelyn asked anxiously, stepping forward.

The healer placed the bowl on a small wooden table beside Hovan's cot, her movements precise and deliberate. "He was closer to death than you might realize," she said, her voice steady but edged with weariness. "The wound was deep, and the blood loss severe. He's stable now, but recovery will take time."

"How much time?" Raelyn pressed, her voice tinged with worry.

"A week, at the very least," the healer replied, adjusting the bandages around Hovan's side with practiced care. "Even then, he must avoid strenuous activity. If the wound reopens, he won't survive another bleed like this."

"I'm right here, you know," Hovan muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite. He winced slightly as the healer tightened the bandage, his hand gripping the edge of the cot.

The healer arched an elegant brow at him, unimpressed by his bravado. "You're alive because of these bandages and the herbs you're so quick to dismiss. Stay still, or I'll sedate you to ensure you do."

Raelyn couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips, though her worry lingered. She crouched beside Hovan, her gaze searching his face. "You heard her. You need rest."

Hovan let out a low chuckle, though it turned into a grimace of pain. "Resting is for the dead. We've got a mission, remember?"

Corix crossed his arms, his expression dark. "The mission won't mean a thing if you're too dead to complete it."

Hovan's smirk widened faintly. "I've been through worse."

"No, you haven't," the healer interjected, her voice firm. "Not without dying."

Corix crouched beside Hovan, his tone grim. "The elders will not teach Raelyn. We need to travel to Eryndoriel to gain the king's approval."

Hovan immediately shifted, attempting to sit up, but the effort sent a sharp jolt of pain through his side. He hissed, his face tightening as he clenched his fists. "Then we leave at first light," he said through gritted teeth.

"No, we won't," Raelyn said firmly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. Her voice carried a quiet intensity, the kind that brooked no argument. "The healer said you need at least a week of rest."

"We don't have a week," Hovan snapped, his voice hoarse but resolute. His eyes met hers, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Every day we waste Unevia is another step closer to being overrun with demons."

"And if you die on the road?" Raelyn shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. Her fingers tightened on his arm, her grip trembling. "I can't do this without you, Hovan. I need you." Raelyn's gaze turned to Corix. "Both of you." Rakz let out a chirp, as if to say he too was needed.

The room fell silent. Hovan's jaw tightened, his gaze searching hers. For a moment, he looked as though he might argue further, but the plea in her eyes silenced him.

"Fine," he said at last, his voice quieter but no less firm. "But only for a week. Not a day more."

Raelyn nodded, relief washing over her. "A week," she agreed softly. "That's all I ask."

The healer stood nearby, arms crossed, her expression unreadable but her eyes glinting with approval. "Good. Then let's make sure he uses that week wisely," she said, turning to adjust the herbs steeping in a small pot over the fire. "You'll need to keep him from doing anything stupid."

"That's the hard part," Corix muttered under his breath, earning a weak chuckle from Hovan.

Raelyn knelt by Hovan's side, her hand brushing against his as she whispered, "Thank you."

Hovan didn't reply, but the faintest hint of a smile crossed his lips as his eyes drifted shut. Raelyn sat back on her heels, letting out a shaky breath.

Raelyn's new room was perched high in the trees, accessible only by a series of narrow, winding bridges that swayed gently with the breeze. The climb to reach it had been unnerving, the gaps between the wooden planks revealing dizzying glimpses of the forest floor far below. Yet the room itself was a sanctuary, its walls made of polished wood adorned with delicate carvings of leaves, stars, and animals native to the forest. The craftsmanship was exquisite, every detail a testament to the elves' harmonious connection with nature.

A single, large window faced the sprawling canopy, offering an unbroken view of the forest. The trees, ancient and steadfast, stood like silent sentinels under the blanket of stars. The air here was crisp and carried the faint scent of flowers and moss, a soothing contrast to the tension of the past days.

Raelyn sat by the window, her legs folded beneath her and the locket resting in her hands. Its faint glow pulsed gently, like a heartbeat, as she turned it over in her fingers. The sight of it brought a familiar heaviness to her chest. This small, unassuming object carried the weight of their mission, the weight of a world teetering on the brink of destruction.

At her feet, Rakz lay curled up, his scaled body rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His golden eyes were half-closed, but he wasn't fully asleep.

"Rakz," Raelyn said softly, her voice breaking the gentle hum of the forest around them. She reached down, running her fingers along the ridges of his neck. "Thank you."

Rakz lifted his head, tilting it slightly as he regarded her with those sharp, intelligent eyes. He let out a low, rumbling purr, a sound that sent a soothing vibration through her hand.

"I mean it," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "You saved me out there. When that demon was coming at me, I—I froze. I didn't know what to do, but you didn't hesitate. You were braver than I'll ever be."

Her companion blinked slowly, his gaze steady and unwavering, as if to say, That's not true.

Raelyn turned her attention to the locket, resting in her hands. For the first time since acquiring it, she allowed herself a quiet moment to truly examine the artifact that had shaped her journey. Its faint, steady glow reflected in her wide eyes, casting a soft light that mingled with the starlight streaming through the window.

Her fingers traced the intricate designs on the locket's surface, marveling at its craftsmanship. She had seen it countless times, felt its comforting weight against her chest, yet she had never studied it with this level of focus. The crown etched into the top seemed to shimmer faintly as she turned it in her hands. Hesitating only for a moment, she pressed the crown gently.

A soft click broke the stillness, and the glass window at the front of the locket slid open. Raelyn leaned closer, her breath catching as the milky-white selenite stone inside was revealed. It seemed to hum faintly, not with sound but with a gentle vibration that resonated through her fingertips. She reached out hesitantly and touched the stone, its cool surface smooth and calming against her skin. A faint sense of peace washed over her, as if the locket itself were reassuring her.

Turning the locket around, her eyes fell on the series of rings on its back. She noticed for the first time that each ring bore parts of intricate images or symbols, though none were clear enough to decipher. Her brow furrowed as she rotated the rings experimentally. They moved smoothly beneath her fingers, their movements precise and deliberate. Yet no matter how she aligned them, the images refused to form anything recognizable.

Frustration flickered briefly in her chest, but it was quickly overtaken by the growing pull of exhaustion. She stared at the locket a moment longer, tracing the edges of the rings with her thumb, before snapping the glass window closed with another soft click. She couldn't help but feel that the answers were there, just out of reach, waiting for her to discover them.

Rakz stirred at her feet, letting out a soft chirp as if sensing her thoughts. She smiled faintly, reaching down to stroke the ridges along his neck. "Not tonight," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "We'll figure it out tomorrow."

Her gaze drifted to the stars outside, their light flickering against the vast expanse of darkness. For now, she let herself take in the quiet beauty of Caelluma, a world apart from the chaos she had left behind. As the forest whispered its gentle lullaby, she placed the locket carefully on the table beside her and climbed into the soft bed of woven vines and silken cloth.

The weight of her body sank into the mattress, and for the first time in days, her mind began to quiet. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a blanket, pulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep. Rakz curled closer to her side, his golden eyes closing as he settled protectively against her.

In the stillness of the room, the faint glow of the locket pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat in the dark.