The wind swept low across the valley, whispering through the tall grass that grew over the ruins of old Eryndor. The morning was quiet—the kind of quiet that felt ancient, like the world was holding its breath.Aelira Vale stopped at the crest of the hill and stared at the worn stone marker half-swallowed by moss. Her fingers brushed away the dirt to reveal the words carved long ago:He carried the light so others could find it.The letters were faded, but the name beneath them—Kael Eryndor—was still clear enough to read.Aelira had never been here before, though she’d dreamed of this place her entire life. Every map she’d ever studied in the archives of Elowen’s Reach had marked this hill as forbidden ground. The valley was quiet now, claimed by wildflowers and the songs of unseen birds. But to her, it hummed. She could feel it beneath her boots—the faint pulse of something sleeping deep below the earth.She crouched beside the stone, her dark hair falling over her face, and whispere

The Accord Tower stood like a blade piercing the sky.Even at night, its silver spires gleamed with reflected moonlight, its halls lit by the soft hum of crystal veins that ran through the marble. From its highest chamber, one could see the whole of Elowen’s Reach—the capital of the Unified Crownlands—sleeping under a canopy of mist.But the Tower itself never slept.Lyssandra Veyne sat alone in the Hall of Sigils, surrounded by books older than kingdoms. Her ink-stained hands moved steadily over parchment as she transcribed another set of records into the archives—a ritual she had performed so many times she could do it in the dark.The bells had rung that morning, and the sound had not left her since.She had been in the Tower’s lower library when they began—sharp and heavy, the sound echoing through her ribs. For centuries, the bells had remained silent, reserved for one purpose only: to announce the reawakening of forbidden magic.Now, they whispered across her mind like a secret

The first fires of dawn touched the forest canopy, streaking gold across the dew-soaked leaves.Aelira sat by the remains of the night’s campfire, her knees drawn up, her palms pressed together to keep warm. She could still feel it—the pulse of the sword through the earth. It wasn’t loud, not anymore, but steady. Constant. Like a second heartbeat she couldn’t silence.Across the clearing, Korran stirred awake. He rolled his shoulders, his joints cracking softly. The years of wandering had left their mark on him—thin scars crossing his hands like faded memories. He rubbed his eyes, then looked at her.“You didn’t sleep again,” he said.She shook her head. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”“Kael?”“Yes. I don’t know how, but he knows me. He says things I don’t understand. Names, places. The Hollow Gate. The Five Flames. And now—” she hesitated, opening her palm, “this.”The mark glowed faintly against her skin, golden threads shifting like embers caught in a breeze.Korran crouch

The rain stopped just before dawn.A pale light spread over the forest, thin and cold, turning every branch into silver. Steam rose from the ground where last night’s battle had scarred the soil, and the smell of iron still lingered.Aelira stood alone at the edge of the clearing, staring down at the sword resting across her knees. The morning was quiet again, but her hands still trembled from what she had done.The light that had poured from her had been raw, uncontrollable. She could still feel its echo under her skin, hot and restless, as though the Blade wasn’t finished with her.Korran was cleaning his rifle a few paces away, his movements slow but steady. He didn’t look up when he spoke.“You did well,” he said.She let out a bitter laugh. “I nearly burned half the forest.”“Still breathing, aren’t we?”“That’s a low bar for success.”He gave a small grin but said nothing more. His silence was comfort enough.Lyssandra returned from the treeline, her cloak heavy with dew. “The S

Snow fell like ash.By the time they reached the northern border, the world had turned white and silent.The Iron Hollows stretched out before them — a land of stone and ice, carved by wind and grief. Mountains loomed in the distance, black veins cutting through their frozen skin.Aelira had never seen snow before. She tried to hide her wonder, but it showed in the way her breath caught each time a flake landed on her sleeve. The Blade on her back shimmered faintly, its light pale and steady, a single warmth in the cold.Korran walked ahead, his coat drawn tight, his rifle slung over his shoulder. The years had given him a soldier’s patience — one step at a time, never faster than silence allowed.Lyssandra followed behind, hood pulled low against the wind, her eyes scanning the horizon as though the air itself could betray them.They had been traveling for six days. No inns, no settlements. Just endless white and the quiet hum of the Blade.Aelira’s voice broke the silence. “How much