C170 A REMEMBERING OF THE DARK

The night did not release its grip.

It stayed heavy, pressing low over the land as though the sky itself was listening.

Elara stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching the torches burn down to dull embers. The air smelt strange now — not smoke, not ash, but something old. Something that didn’t belong to this side of the world.

Behind her, the guards spoke in murmurs. No one laughed