Bree lifts her hands.
The Ether swirls around her—not wild, not chaotic. Deliberate. Controlled. Like sunlight turning solid.
I instinctively move forward, ready to shield her if this goes wrong. But Gray catches my arm, shaking his head once.
She’s in control.
The Ether surges outward in a single, rolling wave.
The Feeders flinch back. Some drop to the ground, arms raised to protect themselves. Others brace, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for pain that’s always followed power like this.
It crashes over the courtyard like dawn breaking—silver light wrapping around every collar, every throat, every bound soul standing in the dirt.
The collars flare bright.
Then crack.
The sound hits like shattering glass in a thunderstorm—hundreds of silver chimes fracturing at once. Pieces fall to the ground, ringing against stone, disappearing into dust.
Gasps tear through the crowd. Someone sobs. Another laughs—broken and disbelieving.
People fall to their knees, hands flying to their throats, touching skin that hasn’t been free in months. Maybe years.
The air smells like ozone and burned metal, but there’s no pain. Just release.
I feel it through the bond—her determination, her compassion, her exhaustion threatening to pull her under.
But she doesn’t fall.
She stands in the center of it all, glowing like the dawn itself, and when she speaks, her voice carries.
Not loud. Just impossible to ignore.
“You did not deserve this.”
The Ether flares brighter with the words, and every freed Feeder looks up.
“No one does. You have a right to freedom. To peace. To your magic—just like everyone else.”
Her hands shake, but her voice doesn’t.
“This sanctuary will be safe again.”
A woman near the front touches her throat, tears streaming down her face.
“You will not mine another bit of Ether for anyone.”
The Ether pulses with each vow, alive and answering.
“The oath is here for you. Take it if you choose—or not. The choice is always yours.”
Silence stretches, heavy and alive.
“I understand if you want to leave. But if you stay, we rebuild this place the way it was meant to be.”
Bree’s breath catches, just slightly. I see it in the rise of her shoulders, the way her fingers curl.
“I didn’t run. I was captured. I didn’t leave you. I couldn’t escape.”
