The Vale was no longer still.

What had once been a cradle of stone and echoing wind now pulsed like a living heart, veins of molten light running through the cracks in its floor. The night’s air shimmered with charged breath, as if the stars themselves were holding back, afraid to look down upon what was waking below.

Elaria felt the shift before the sound reached her. The earth was whispering — not in language, but in the ancient rhythm of blood and bond.

Her hand tightened around the ...