Thank you—that's exactly the
The stone beneath them groaned.
Not the creak of old walls settling. This was deeper, a resonance. Dust trickled from the ceiling. One of the hanging doors outside banged once against the windless air, then fell silent again.
Kaal blinked.
The glow in his veins pulsed once, then faded, as if nothing had happened. His chest heaved, sweat beading along his brow. He looked at Lyra like he wasn't sure who she was, or who he was. His lips parted as if to speak.
"What did you just say?" Lyra asked, low and firm, crouching beside him again.
Kaal blinked, like he was still waking up. "I… I don't know."
"You said something. It shook the whole damn room."
"I didn't..." He broke off, gripping the edge of the bench. "I was dreaming. I thought I was dreaming."
Thalin stood now, journal forgotten in his lap, his brows drawn in something between concern and calculation. "That wasn't just a dream."
"No kidding," Lyra muttered, still eyeing Kaal's hands like they might start glowing again.
Kaal wiped his face. "It felt… like I was somewhere else. Standing in a place made of mirrors. The air burned when I breathed. There were symbols on the walls, and something watching me from behind them."
Thalin approached slowly, cautious not to spook either of them. "Did you speak the word in the dream?"
Kaal nodded. "I think so. But I don't know."
Lyra stood, blocking Thalin's advance. "Back off, scholar. You're not here to poke holes in him."
Thalin held his ground, hands raised. "If he's dreaming in the language of the old realm, it matters. The Zmrylian rites..."
"I don't care about rites," she snapped. "He's not your study."
Thalin's voice stayed calm. "Then maybe you should care about what kind of power is responding when he speaks."
The silence that followed was tense and brittle.
Kaal broke it with a whisper. "I felt it."
They both turned.
He was staring at the floor.
"Something under us. When I said it… it heard me."
Lyra's mouth dried. "It?"
Kaal finally met her gaze. "I think it knew my name."
The air in the room snapped tight.
Lyra straightened. "The thing in the dream?"
He nodded.
"It said your name?"
"No," Kaal said. "It didn't speak. But it... knew. Like it had always known. Like it was waiting for me to remember it first."
Thalin scribbled on his journal, and Lyra had officially had enough.
"We're leaving," she said. "Now."
Thalin looked up. "We're safe here."
"For now," she muttered. "Which means it's a terrible place to stay."
Kaal tried to rise and stumbled. Lyra caught him before he hit the ground.
"Easy," she said, voice softer. "Let the hero act die down before you faceplant."
Kaal gave her a weak glare. "I'm fine."
"Sure. And I'm the queen's favorite pet."
Thalin stayed out of reach but moved toward the doorway. "There's another trail that curves west along the frost line. It should lead us past the ridge, down toward the basin."
Lyra squinted at him. "Convenient how you know every 'should' out here."
He shrugged. "I study maps."
"Right. Scholar Voss and his endless pockets of convenient knowledge. The maps failed us earlier."
"Not mine, I made them myself from multiples."
Kaal leaned into her for balance. "I hate that he makes sense."
"I hate that he looks like he does," she muttered. "Bet he even wakes up with good hair."
"Still here," Thalin called from the door.
"Tragically," she muttered.
They left the outpost behind.
The air outside was colder now, the kind of cold that didn't come from altitude. The wind was dead, the mist crawling low, clinging to the hills like smoke that forgot how to rise.
Thalin led, careful not to get too far ahead. Lyra walked beside Kaal, who was quieter than usual. Not brooding, just drained. She could see the toll the dream took. His steps weren't slow, but they lacked his usual stubbornness. He was conserving himself. Smart. Dangerous.
She kept one eye on him and one on the shadows.
The trail snaked between stone ridges and ice-tipped roots, barely a path at all. At one point, they crossed under a natural arch, an ice shelf carved by wind and time.
That's when she felt it.
Something at the edge of her vision.
A flicker in the mist.
Lyra stopped.
Kaal followed her gaze. "What is it?"
She scanned the trees. "Not sure."
Thalin turned, noticing their pause. "Problem?"
"I'll tell you when it tries to eat you," she said.
They kept moving, but Lyra's skin stayed tight. The hairs on her arms didn't go down.
By dusk, they found a break in the rocks with enough shelter to rest. Not a cave, but enough cover from the wind.
Thalin started a small, low-burning fire. Kaal sat beside it, rubbing his hands together like he could chase the cold out of his skin.
Lyra sat at the edge of camp, watching the ridgeline.
She saw it again.
At first, she thought it was a trick of the firelight, shadows curling wrong. But no. There it was.
A shape.
Not walking.
Not creeping.
Just… watching.
Eyes, or maybe not eyes, fixed on her.
She stood slowly, no sudden movements.
Kaal noticed.
"What is it?"
She didn't answer right away.
The thing didn't move. Didn't approach. Just stood there, veil-like, tall and thin.
Then, impossibly, it spoke.
Not aloud.
Not exactly.
The voice wasn't heard.
It landed.
In her.
Like something dropped into the deepest part of her thoughts.
"I've never seen Eternity walk," it said. "Not in all my years."
Lyra's breath hitched.
"What?" she whispered.
"And yet here she is. Walking."
The shape vanished.
Not fled. Not dissolved.
Just... gone.
Like it had never been.
Lyra stood frozen.
Kaal reached her side. "What happened? You look..."
"I'm not..." She stopped herself. "Nothing. Just thought I saw something."
Thalin looked up from his notes. "We're not alone, are we?"
Lyra sat down slowly beside the fire. She didn't answer.
She didn't sleep that night.
Neither did Kaal.
And from the edge of the world, something watched them still.