Session 2 - Day 3 - Afternoon, Raining, On the road back to Larkfen Hollow

I’m writing this with sore limbs and a heart that feels both heavy and light. Lady Vire is gone. Truly gone. I watched her spirit fade into pale green light, her voice softening into silence. I don’t know if I freed her or simply stood beside her long enough for her to find her own way—but I was there. I stayed. I listened. And I think that mattered.
 
The skeletons were terrifying. I held my ground, but I felt fragile—like a thread pulled too tight. I need something gentler in my arsenal. Something that doesn’t rely on luck. A spell I can call on when the fight turns and I’m the one bleeding. I’ll ask Branna Wren or Elder Maelin when I return. Surely my magic is not just limited to flame.
 
And yet there was the flare. A rush of power, uncontrolled, unapologetic. It wasn’t just light—it was me. I felt it rise from somewhere deep, like a spark that had been waiting for the right moment, for the right fuel. It was beautiful. And a little frightening. I know magic, but I don’t understand it—not the way wizards do. I’ve never studied the old tomes or traced ley lines across parchment. My magic feels like instinct, like breath. But what if it’s more than that? What if it’s wild?
 
Still… I’m not afraid. Not really.
 
I’m tired, yes. My boots are soaked, and my fingers ache. But I’m walking home with something new inside me. Not just power—purpose. I helped someone find peace. I stood in the dark and didn’t flinch. And even if I don’t know what comes next, I know I’ll meet it head-on.
 
Larkfen Hollow awaits. I want to see Lyssa’s grin, hear Branna’s stories, sit with Elder Maelin and ask too many questions. I want to share what happened. Not just the fight—but the feeling. The quiet triumph.
 
Then… maybe the Echoing Grotto. Or the Hollow Spire Ruins. I haven’t decided yet. But I will.
 
Because this is my story. And I’m still writing it.
-E