CAIRN POINT OF VIEW

Night settled deep over Moonfang, pressing against the fortress like a living thing, heavy and unyielding. But even under that weight, the place never truly slept.

Inside the barracks, silence came in fragments rather than whole. It wasn’t the kind that soothed, it lingered, uneven, stitched together by the quiet sounds of exhaustion. A man turning in his sleep. The rough drag of fabric against wood. A muffled breath, too deep to be restful. Somewhere beyond the walls, ...