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"I know. The shadows are heavy," Elara agreed, her fingers finally brushing the feathered fletching. "But you are lighter than the dark. On three, I’m going to pull the physical steel. The spiritual hurt... that’s yours to push out."

"Not today," he breathed, sitting up as Elara bandaged the wound. The ache was still there, a dull reminder of how close he’d come, but the arrowhurt was broken.

One. The forest held its breath.Two. Kaelen gripped a handful of dirt, feeling the grit and life of the earth.Three.

The sky over the Great Forest was the color of a bruised plum when the final volley of arrows fell. Kaelen, a young scout whose only real talent was running fast and staying quiet, felt the sharp, hot sting in his shoulder before he heard the thwack of the shaft finding its mark.

"The pain is a liar, Kaelen," she whispered, her voice a grounding anchor. "The arrowhurt wants you to think the wound is your whole world. Look at me. Breathe the moss and the rain, not the sting."