Elira began to speak in her sleep.Not in babble or whimpers like other infants, but in full phrases—sometimes single words, sometimes long, drawn-out verses in a tongue none of them recognized. The syllables echoed through the sanctum at night like distant thunder rolling over bones. Kael first heard it while sharpening his blade. Ruby, during a patrol beneath the eastern towers. But it was Zara who heard the clearest—because the voice came from her daughter, and the language curled like a memory she hadn’t lived."Dreamwalking," Ruby whispered, kneeling beside the child’s cradle one moonless night. "That’s what the old seers called it. When a child walks through minds instead of hallways."Elira lay still, eyes closed, tiny fingers curled around the silk thread of her blanket. Her mouth moved."Etari-vos lunas kael. Tenebrum renox."Zara stiffened. The second phrase—she knew it. Or part of it.She stepped forward slowly. "That last word... 'renox'. That’s from the Balance texts. It
The cradle pulsed.Not with light. Not with movement. But with something older—like memory curling inside a breath. The sanctum where Elira had been born no longer sat still. It breathed. Stones shifted without touch. Shadows blinked without source. Beneath the surface of the earth, something vast had awakened—and it was listening.Zara leaned heavily against the arched window, her healing robe damp with sweat. Days had passed since the Hollow Eye fell. Since fire and blood gave birth to a child who did not cry, but watched. Now the girl slept in a woven nest of starlight thread, guarded by runes etched in ruby and silver. Yet Zara could feel it—the shifting hum beneath her bones. Something had broken. Or been born.She clutched her abdomen, not from pain, but because something echoed there. Not contraction. Not ache. A pull—as if the cradle was singing to her womb, to the same spark that once carried the girl now cradled in flame.“She dreams with her eyes open,” Ruby whispered behin
The storm had no name.It tore across the Vale with a fury that felt personal—wind screaming like ancient spirits loosed from their graves, rain falling in silver needles that carved through sky and stone. The mountaintop sanctuary shook under the weight of clashing magic. Lightning danced violet across the heavens, illuminating the broken runes around Zara as she labored beneath the blood-soaked moon."She’s early," Ruby said, soaked and pale, her voice ragged. "Too early."Zara was on her knees, breath shallow, one hand clenched around Kael's bloodied palm, the other wrapped protectively over her belly. Her skin pulsed with flame-light, veins glowing with the combined fury of Balance and Blood. The protection circle had cracked. The Hollow Eye had breached the gates. The prophecy rune had shattered in the rites. And now, the child—her child—was coming."They’re closing in," Kael growled, glancing toward the shadowed edge of the sanctuary where figures robed in voidlight flickered in
The moon over the Vale bled silver.Not shimmered. Not glowed. Bled.Zara stood in the center of the highstone terrace, cloaked in ceremonial silk, her hand pressed to the runes carved into the ritual dais. Around her, the full moon rite burned to life—candles flickered in unnatural rhythms, salt circles hissed as if they resisted what was coming, and the air itself seemed too thick to breathe.Kael and Ruby stood just beyond the circle, warding glyphs drawn beneath their boots, weapons ready, shoulders tight.The child within her shifted. Not a simple kick. A surge. Power rippled through Zara’s spine, unfurling through her veins like molten metal.She hissed and staggered."She’s responding to the moon," Ruby murmured. "But it’s too soon. The alignment wasn’t supposed to peak until next week."Zara's skin lit with lunar sigils, glowing from beneath as if her bones remembered an older magic. Her breath grew shallow. The circle beneath her feet trembled. The protective glyphs began to
The wind over the Vale shifted.It wasn’t the breeze that stirred leaves or the distant hum of the mountain winds. No, this was something older—a breath inhaled from a world that should’ve stayed sealed. Zara felt it first. A tug at her blood, cold and sudden. Her unborn child kicked once, twice, and the air cracked with a low-pitched hum that only those tied to ancient bloodlines could hear. The glow that flickered beneath her skin pulsed brighter than before.Ruby burst through the chamber doors, her boots slick with frost. “They’re here. Just like the runes warned.”Kael followed, his expression carved from stone. “Void-trace on the wards. Whoever crossed in—they weren’t bound by this realm.”Zara rose from the edge of the runic dais, one hand pressed against her swelling belly. Her voice came low, almost reverent. “The Hollow Eye.” The name alone tasted bitter. “My mother spoke of them only once. Then she burned the record that said too much.”Outside, the Vale’s moonlight turned
The sky had frozen.Not in weather or temperature, but in time. Clouds hung unmoving, starlight caught mid-blink, and the moon hovered—half-shadowed, cracked down its glowing belly like an egg ready to spill. Within the Vale, everything stood eerily still. No wind. No voices. No movement. Only the heartbeat of the city, slow and uncertain, as if waiting to be judged.Zara stood at the center of the Tribunal’s circle, moonfire veining her arms. Behind her, Kael and Ruby remained trapped mid-breath—suspended like statues. Even the wind around her cape had paused. The only thing that moved was the cloaked envoy of the Tribunal: five figures, taller than human, their faces hidden behind silver masks carved with phases of the moon.One stepped forward. "Zara Vale. Sovereign by blood. Mother by prophecy. You stand before the Eye. Do you submit your heir to fate?"Zara lifted her chin. "I submit only the truth."The masked judge paused. A tremor ran through the sigils carved into the marble