********** Grey mist swirls around Aiden’s ankles, cold and damp, smelling of wet earth and crushed vegetation. He stands in a void, turning in slow circles, but the fog obscures everything beyond a few feet. He takes a step forward, his boots sinking into soft mud, and the scent of wild mint and sharp thyme hits his nose. He realizes this is the clearing where he plucks herbs for his mother, the same treacherous hillside behind the village. Through a thinning patch of mist, he sees her—the woman from that day. She sits on a flat stone, exactly as she did then, her back rigid, her roughspun wool dress stained with dirt. She doesn't move. Her voice echoes in his head, a melodic whisper that vibrates in his chest. Wake up, she says. Wake up. The pitch cracks and deepens, the soft feminine tone twisting into a rough, masculine baritone that jars his teeth. Aiden gasps, his eyes snapping open. Elias’s hand grips his shoulder, shaking him hard. "Wake up, you deep sleeper," Elias grunt
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