It's too much to bear my darlin', the weight of the world
And I would carry it for you
Noah stayed kneeling a moment longer, his hand still pressed to the earth as if anchoring the weight of what had just passed. The warmth from the rose wasn’t just heat—it was something older, deeper. It breathed through him like fire through a forge, like sunlight through ash. Slowly, he stood, brushing soil from his palms, and praising his patron silently yet fully.
Zavien’s words struck with quiet finality. Noah looked at him, steady and worn. He saw the gratitude in Zavien’s face, the echo of relief behind his eyes, and felt a flicker of something like peace bloom low in his chest. It didn’t erase the cost. But it mattered.
He exhaled, breath catching slightly as he began to speak, ”Stormbreak deserves a new beginning.” He turned his glacier gaze outward, to the spires and streets below, where a city might begin to heal. “Let them come home.”
FIN
Zavien’s words struck with quiet finality. Noah looked at him, steady and worn. He saw the gratitude in Zavien’s face, the echo of relief behind his eyes, and felt a flicker of something like peace bloom low in his chest. It didn’t erase the cost. But it mattered.
He exhaled, breath catching slightly as he began to speak, ”Stormbreak deserves a new beginning.” He turned his glacier gaze outward, to the spires and streets below, where a city might begin to heal. “Let them come home.”
FIN
