The valley still talked about the sled incident.
Miller pretended otherwise, of course.
Whenever someone mentioned the moment Charlisa had grabbed the rope and helped steer the runaway sled before it smashed into the lower grain shed, the old smith only grunted and returned to hammering iron as if nothing remarkable had happened.
But Charlisa noticed the change.
Miller watched her differently now.
Not as an outsider who might wander into danger, but as someone who had proven she could keep her head when things turned chaotic.
That morning she had come to the forge again, partly to return a tool she had borrowed and partly because the place had become strangely comforting.
The steady rhythm of hammer on metal filled the open workshop.
Miller stood at the anvil, shaping a long iron hook.
Kael leaned against one of the wooden support beams nearby, arms folded loosely across his chest.
His wings rested half-folded behind him, their violet membranes catching stray shafts of sunlight filtering through the forge roof.
Charlisa had grown used to the sight of them.
They moved naturally when he shifted his shoulders, almost like another pair of quiet limbs.
Miller finished the strike he was making before speaking.
"You flying patrol today?" the smith asked casually.
Kael shrugged.
"Probably."
Miller grunted.
"Storm clouds building in the south hills."
Kael glanced toward the valley mouth.
"I noticed."
Miller slid the iron hook into a barrel of water where it hissed loudly.
Then he wiped his hands on a cloth and finally looked at Kael properly.
"You're flying lower these days."
Kael's expression didn't change.
"Wind's been strange."
Miller snorted immediately.
"Wind doesn't make wings shake."
Charlisa looked up.
"Shake?"
Kael pushed himself away from the beam.
"They're fine."
Miller said nothing, but his eyes followed Kael carefully.
Charlisa noticed something then.
Something small.
When Kael adjusted his shoulders, his wings didn't settle as smoothly as they usually did.
The motion was… delayed.
Almost stiff.
Kael walked toward the open yard beside the forge.
"Let's test the wind then," he said lightly.
Miller crossed his arms.
Charlisa followed them outside.
The yard stretched into the lower meadow where warm air already shimmered above the grass.
Kael rolled his shoulders once.
Then twice.
His wings slowly unfolded behind him.
The violet membranes stretched wide, catching the morning sun in shifting flashes of color.
Even after weeks of seeing it, Charlisa still felt a quiet awe watching the motion.
Kael bent his knees slightly.
With one powerful beat of his wings, he lifted off the ground.
The air rushed downward in a gust that stirred dust and loose straw across the yard.
He rose easily at first.
Ten feet.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Then something strange happened.
The wings faltered.
Not dramatically.
Just a subtle unevenness in the rhythm.
One wing dipped slightly lower than the other.
Kael corrected it immediately, but Charlisa saw it.
So did Miller.
The smith's jaw tightened.
Kael circled once above the meadow.
His flight remained controlled, but he stayed lower than usual.
When he landed again moments later, the descent was sharper than his typical graceful glide.
His boots touched the earth with a dull thud.
For a moment he remained still.
Then he folded his wings again.
Mira noticed his shoulders tense as he did.
Miller walked forward slowly.
"You felt it."
Kael didn't answer right away.
Finally he said,
"It's nothing."
Miller gave him a look that could bend iron.
"Nothing doesn't make wings lose rhythm."
Kael exhaled slowly.
"It'll pass."
Charlisa stepped closer without thinking.
"Does it hurt?"
Kael glanced at her.
"No."
"Then what is it?"
He hesitated.
Then shrugged.
"Feels like… pressure."
Miller's eyes narrowed further.
"Where?"
Kael reached back briefly, touching the center of his upper spine.
"Here."
Miller muttered something under his breath that Charlisa couldn't quite hear.
"What?" she asked.
The old smith shook his head.
"Probably nothing."
But his tone said the opposite.
Kael rolled his shoulders again as if trying to loosen something beneath the skin.
For a brief moment Charlisa thought she saw his wings twitch slightly even while folded.
Like muscles reacting to a signal they no longer fully understood.
Kael noticed her watching and gave a small reassuring smile.
"Don't worry."
Charlisa wasn't reassured.
Miller wasn't either.
The smith picked up his hammer again but spoke without looking up.
"If it gets worse…"
Kael already knew what he was going to say.
"I'll speak to the matriarchs."
Miller nodded once.
But Charlisa saw the unease lingering in his eyes.
And later that evening, when Kael sat beside her outside their home, she noticed something else.
When he leaned forward slightly, the muscles along his back tightened as if holding back a deep, unfamiliar heat.