Holtgaard was usually the picture of harmony. Villagers tended their gardens, plucked ripe strawberries, or trimmed faded blossoms. It wasn't uncommon for neighbors to linger by a fence, chatting and complimenting each other's flower beds. A smile, a friendly nod, a few encouraging words—before moving on with their day.

Now, every garden stood empty. No one walked the streets.

Everyone had gathered in the village square, where the steady beat of heavy drums cast a solemn shadow over every face.

Otherwise, silence reigned.

The town hall doors swung open. A young woman stepped out, head held high. She descended the steps and walked across the gravel path toward the square, six council members following in her wake. Their dark cloaks hovered just above the ground.

Cody held his breath. This scene was too familiar. It felt like watching a memory—except this time, the exile was a girl. Her dark brown hair gleamed in the sunlight, her green-blue eyes burned with resolve, and her mouth was set in a hard line.

Orion had grinned. Even now, five years later, Cody could still picture that grin perfectly. The boy had almost always been smirking.

He wondered if Orion still smirked, after five years in the wilderness.

The tightness in Cody's chest made it hard to breathe.

Slender fingers curled around his own, giving a gentle squeeze.

He glanced sideways. Fleur smiled at him, reassuring and warm. His cheeks burned. If she knew who he was thinking about, she probably wouldn't be smiling.

The exile—Nova—halted by the village well. The council members lined up beside her, standing a meter from the stone edge as they gazed down into the depths. No one had drawn water from it in years. A narrow spiral staircase had long since replaced the bucket and rope, leading down into the vault of memories.

The drums fell silent.

Even the birds had stopped singing. Though Cody spotted a few great tits perched on a gutter, not a single sound escaped their beaks. Likely, a spell had muted them.

Only one sound cut through the silence: the sharp click of heels on stone. Each step rang louder than the last until the mayor emerged from the well. Without faltering on her high heels, she stepped onto the well's rim and descended the carved stone steps in a perfectly straight posture.

She held a lantern by its handle. Inside its glass chamber, golden, silver, and bronze wisps swirled like fish in a bowl. Now and then, a streak of black flickered through them.

Memories.

Even though Cody watched those wisps rise from his own head every evening, it was still unsettling to see them captured like this. Especially now, with the darkness unable to hide their colors.

What the mayor held in her hands was Nova's identity.

Every memory that had shaped her into who she was.

Someone who was about to leave Holtgaard. Forever.

"In Holtgaard, we hold a few values above all else. Equality. Integrity. Justice. By upholding these principles, we have built a society unlike any other. A place where everyone feels safe and valued. When someone chooses to turn away from us—for whatever reason—it feels like a dagger in our backs. It pains us to see one of our own leave, choosing the dangers of the wild over everything Holtgaard has to offer. But we will not hold anyone here against their will." The mayor's gaze swept across the gathered villagers before settling on Nova. "And so, you are free to go, Nova. Do you acknowledge the consequences of your departure? Because of the taint that lurks in the forest and the curses that will follow, you will never be allowed to return to Holtgaard."

"I understand that I will never be permitted to return."

A choked sob broke the silence. Cody turned his head.

Just a few meters from the well, Nova's parents stood together. Her father had wrapped an arm around her mother's trembling shoulders.

"Please," she pleaded, her voice raw. "Stay with us, Nova. Your place is here."

Nova straightened her back. Her lips pressed into a firm line. "You know why I can't stay."

"You can't abandon us!" she cried. "Not you too!"

Nova looked away, pressing her lips together.

Was this truly her choice? Cody had never seen that before. Usually, exiles were those cast out for their crimes.

Did she want to go after her brother?

Cody had no siblings. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to lose one.

"My decision is final," Nova said at last.

The mayor nodded. "So be it. Then I must ask you to remove your graduate's cloak."

Without hesitation, Nova unfastened the cloak she had received upon completing her training.

Cody's fingers brushed over the fabric of his own deep red robe. He couldn't imagine giving it up—it symbolized years of dedication and hard work.

Nova folded her dark green cloak and placed it neatly at her feet before standing tall once more.

"These are for you," the mayor continued. "I hope you will treasure them more than you treasured Holtgaard."

So dramatic.

For the briefest moment, it was as if Orion stood beside him, arms crossed, leaning against a wall that wasn't there. Even after all these years, Cody could hear his voice perfectly—could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Cody couldn't quite place the memory. Probably from one of the weekly speeches in the main hall, marking the start of a new school week.

The memory faded. Fleur stood next to him, watching him thoughtfully.

His cheeks burned again. If she knew what I was thinking about...

As an archivist, she could see his thoughts if she wanted to. But she never would. She took her job seriously—she'd never abuse her position like that. She had no reason to peek into his memories.

He gave her an apologetic smile and quickly refocused on the mayor.

It was just the ceremony making him think about Orion. That was all.

He must have missed Nova's response. She had taken the mayor's lantern and placed it carefully in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.

"Farewell, Nova."

"Farewell, Nova," the crowd echoed.

Cody's mouth felt dry. He should have spoken too, but the words remained stuck in his throat. His thoughts trailed behind the moment, sluggish and reluctant.

There was no time for a real goodbye.

The drummers raised their sticks and resumed their solemn rhythm. Nova turned from the well and began to walk. The council members moved with her, a somber row of black figures at her sides.

Cody watched until the crowd blocked his view.

He barely knew Nova.

And yet, it felt like a loss that he would never see her again.