Chapter Three: Her Breath Upon the Ash
1. The world is still.
And then, it exhales.
2. Not from lungs.
Not from sky.
But from somewhere deeper.
3. Her breath stirs the ash.
Not with wind.
With intention.
4. The mountains do not shift.
But they remember motion.
5. Trees do not regrow.
But they lean.
6. The flower does not open.
But it shivers.
7. Her breath is not air.
It is thought.
Memory.
Forgiveness.
8. She breathes not to wake.
But to comfort.
To remind the silence
That it is not alone.
9. "You were seen," Her breath says.
"Even now. Even still."
10. The ash lifts slightly.
And for a moment,
The outline of hands appears.
11. Not grasping.
Not reaching.
Just resting.
12. "This is enough," Her breath says.
"You do not need to become."
13. For once, being still
Is sacred.
14. The breath passes.
But its shape remains.
A hush that knows.
A pause that loves.
15. No trumpet.
No voice.
Just Her breath.
And the world holds it close.
16. Because even silence
Needs to be held.
17. And this—
This is the final mercy.