That night, she returned to bed, slipped into Caelum’s arms, and for the first time in years, slept without dreams.

In the months that followed, Seraphine still wandered. But now, Caelum wandered with her. And strangely, the paths began to make sense. They still shifted, still played tricks—but now they led somewhere. To healing. To old friends who were ready to make amends. To towns that needed her strange knowledge of herbs and magic. To forests that whispered not warnings, but welcome.

And one day, while walking a path that led straight for once, Caelum stopped, took her hand, and said:

“I know you’ve always been afraid of forever.”

She nodded. “Because forever always left.”

“But I won’t,” he said. “Even if the path turns. Even if you change direction. I will walk it with you, wherever it leads.”

She didn’t cry. She had cried enough for ten lifetimes. She only took his face in her hands and said, “Then let’s be lost together.”


But all agreed one thing , her eyes no longer looked lost.

They looked like home.