Chapter 3

I woke up in our small cottage, my arm bandaged. Michael sat beside the bed. His face was a mask of contrition.

"The river sprites have been punished, Ellie," he said softly. "I made sure of it. How could they harm you?"

Superficial. Empty.

I felt weak, the spiritual ache a constant throb. "My Heartstone Locket," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "It' s gone. I feel... a deep cold."

He feigned deep concern, his brow furrowed. "Your locket? Oh, Ellie, I' m so sorry. We' ll search for it, I promise." He placed his hand on my forehead, channeling a small amount of his own limited energy to soothe me. It was a temporary fix, a gesture he knew would comfort me in the past.

"I have urgent Conclave business," he said after a moment, rising. "Rest. I' ll be back soon."

He left. Rest was impossible. The cottage felt suffocating.

Later, when I felt a little stronger, I walked to our shared garden. It had always been my sanctuary. My cherished Midnight Bloom roses, the ones I' d cultivated with such care, their dark, velvety petals like a night sky – they were gone. Every single one.

In their place stood rows of Victoria' s favorite flower: Dawn Lilies, their pale, waxy faces turned to the sun.

Then I heard voices from the gazebo, the small, enclosed structure at the garden's edge Michael had built for us, a place for warm conversations on cool evenings.

Michael' s voice. And Victoria' s.

"You were so brave, Michael, saving me first," Victoria cooed. She was wearing my Heartstone Locket. It gleamed on her chest, a stolen star. "Everyone saw. And this locket you gave me, it' s exquisite. A pre-wedding gift?"

"Only the best for you, Victoria," Michael murmured. I heard the rustle of fabric, a soft sigh.

My eyes fell on something discarded on the ground near the gazebo steps. A linen napkin, one I had hand-stitched for Michael, marked with a small, simple "E" in the corner. It was soiled, trampled into the dirt.

I turned and fled, a silent scream trapped in my chest. The pain was no longer just a cold ache; it was a burning, hollowing agony.