Ashfall drifted over the southern ridges, casting the valleys in a strange haze as the chill of morning cut through the courtyards and old stone rooms of Starfall. News—and rumors—moved more swiftly than any caravan these days. Ethan felt it before breakfast, in the subtle unease of servants' voices and the quiet that hung over the council room when Lysander and Kaelan arrived.
For weeks, subtle restoration and reform had settled most disputes. Ironwood merchants and Phoenix envoys had found new equilibrium. The artifact crisis seemed—for now—contained. Yet this peace felt more tenuous each sunrise, as if every day was borrowed against some future storm. Messages laden with polite menace arrived from the north, and a new rumor haunted the halls: a stranger, quick-tongued and fearless, was gathering restless remnants to a new cause.
