The City of Echoes

There was Velnair, its gates looming ahead — not opened, not chained, but watching.

The heat curled under Serena's ribs as she neared. The flame hovering near her shoulder pulsed brighter, as if it, too, remembered this city. Lucian walked next to her, quiet and close. His eyes scanned the towers. Elias trailed, fingers drumming the hilt of his crossbow.

It was the pack too, heads high, steps steady. They were no longer survivors . They were Lightwalkers now — keepers of the old truths, and the courage to proclaim them.

And at that moment, from the very edge of the inner distance overhead, a sound rang out through the city — the tolling of the great bell. It was not a war cry. It was lower. Older. The type of bell that rings at funerals or when a royal drops: a sign that something sacred was back.

Soldiers at the gate were frozen.