The world didn’t sleep after the Dreamfire was born.

It breathed.

Every night, silver mist rolled down from the mountains. Trees whispered in languages older than roots. Rivers sang softly under the moon, their reflections showing places that did not exist.

And through it all, the Dreamfire pulsed alive and restless like a heart inside the world’s chest.

Kael and I could feel it under our skin. A rhythm that wasn’t ours, but beat us anyway.

“The Dreamfire’s growing,” Kael said ...