Firefly Glen and time breaks your heart

Morwenna’s gaze softened as Akavir spoke, her eyes tracing the sky as if reflecting on his words. It sounds as if you’ve seen all corners of these lands, Akavir, she murmured, voice rich with quiet intrigue. But these places—the kingdoms, the hierarchies… the structure of it all seems like such a weight. A faint sigh escaped her, and she looked away, shadows of her past flickering in her eyes. Religion, royalty—there was a time I was wrapped up in it all, but I've had enough of crowns and titles to last me a lifetime. I’d hoped this gathering might bring something… simpler.

She looked to him again, her expression softening with a hint of vulnerability. I’m sorry to hear of your mate. Loss is its own kind of kingdom, isn’t it? Not one I’d wish for any soul. She paused, letting the sentiment settle before her voice grew lighter, warmer. But... maybe that’s the hope for all of us, really. A chance to leave the burdens behind, to start over. To write a new story.

Morwenna let her gaze linger on him, studying his expression with a caring warmth that softened her sharp edges. But enough of my old ghosts—tell me of Rising Sun Valley, Swiftcurrent Creek, she urged gently, her voice carrying a tender, almost maternal note, as if inviting him to share whatever burdens he carried. Surely a place you’ve chosen to return to has some hold on you… perhaps something that feels like home, even with all that’s been lost?

She leaned a little closer, her voice softening further. I imagine there’s something in those lands that offers you peace—or at least a place to lay down some of that heaviness, maybe even find a bit of comfort. Her eyes searched his, warm and sincere. It’s good to have somewhere to return to. And perhaps, in time, you’ll find that those old wounds have a way of mending when you’re where you’re meant to be.