(Griffin)
I never thought I'd see these trees again. I shift back to my human form, lowering Maya gently to the ground.
The wind shifts through the pines, carrying the sharp, mineral scent of the river nearby. The forest grows denser here, older. These were the woods I used to run through as a boy, long before the weight of a crown was placed on my head.
The thought of my younger brother pierces my heart.
Our father always told us that the kingdom could only prosper if we had each other's backs. He trained us, drilled loyalty to each other into us, while our mother filled our hearts with love. I know my brother better than I know myself. Losing me must not have been easy on him. All these years, he has had to watch his own back as well as watch over a kingdom he never learned to govern.
I don't know what I expect when we break through the last thicket. Grief, maybe. Resentment. But mostly, I feel the ache of returning to a place that no longer remembers me.
