Aria Blackwood.... The world came back to me slowly, piece by piece. First it was the smell of dried herbs, crushed roots, the faint tang of poultices burning in a pot nearby. Then the sound of murmured voices, low and anxious. And then the pain was sharp and throbbing, ripping through my side until I winced. “Aria? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” My mother’s voice cut through the haze, warm and trembling, I blinked my eyes open, the dim glow of lantern light filling my vision. My mother leaned over me, her auburn hair escaping from her braid and her eyes were glossy with tears. Behind her stood my father, his jaw clenched tight, and my brother, Elias hovering with worry written all over his face. “Mom,” I whispered, my throat dry and raw. She let out a choked sob, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Oh, thank the Goddess, you scared us half to death.” I tried to sit up, but agony shot through my ribs, forcing me to collapse back onto the thin mattress. My father’s hand landed ge
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