When the Willow Wept Moonbeams.

Previously

…“I will return,” Elara promised, her voice firm. “I will bring back the light.” With that, she turned, the weaver’s thread of moonlight a soft glow against the encroaching gloom. She walked away from the injured sprite, deeper into the woods, the path ahead uncertain, but her purpose clear. The rustling leaves seemed to whisper encouragement, the wind carried the scent of damp earth and ancient secrets, and the luminous thread on her wrist pulsed with a steady, unwavering light, a silent promise of the dawn that was yet to come. The quest had begun.