Golden Echoes

The last echoes of their conversation hung in the warm air of Elara's cottage, a sanctuary woven from ivy and charm. She sat close to Aiden on her worn settee, the locket around his neck glinting in the firelight, its intricate filigree a testament to the magic it contained. It was an anchor that would keep him safely by her side.

"Are you sure it will work?" Aiden asked, concerned, knitting his brows as he fingered the locket's smooth surface.

"Trust me," Elara said, her voice comforting, "You can stay at Sunrise. You don't need to return to the canvas again."

She nodded, wanting to believe him, when a sharp rapping at the windowpane shattered the quiet. They both turned, startled, as the sound repeated—a persistent tapping that beckoned them with urgency.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.