The Wall stood as it always had. Smooth. Silent. Unchanged.
The market bustled under the same worn tarps, vendors calling out the price of bread and salted fish. The river flowed under the watchtower, its current pulling slow and steady. Children ran through the streets, their laughter echoing off the stone walls.
No one noticed the gap.
At the bread stall, Mrs. Ellin smiled as she wrapped two loaves for a customer. She did not remember a tall young man who used to pass each morning, nodding politely before heading to the river road. His face, his voice, the sound of his footsteps — all gone, not even a ghost in her mind.
In a modest home near the Wall's base, a woman sipped her tea by the window. The shadow of the Wall stretched across her floor. For a moment, her brow furrowed, as though she'd forgotten something important. The thought slipped away before it could form.
On the watchtower, Derren scanned the streets below, eyes passing over the market, the rooftops, the open courtyards. He could not have said what he was looking for. Only that sometimes, the city felt… incomplete.
The hum in the air was faint now, a whisper too low to trouble the ear. But it was there. Always there.
Beyond the Wall, in that pale expanse where time held no sway, something waited.
It had no need to move. It had no need to speak.
It simply waited.