The eastern path was barely visible, swallowed by fog and overgrown reeds. Kael moved fast but silently, boots finding memory-worn ground as if the land itself recognized him. Aria struggled to keep pace, her breath shallow, her thoughts louder than the crashing surf somewhere beyond the mist.
She could still feel it.
The eyes in the fog.
The symbol.
The words carved into the wall.
We remember her too.
“Kael,” she whispered as they descended toward the coves, “that shadow back there… it wasn’t my imagination, was it?”
Kael didn’t slow. “No.”
That single word sent a chill through her spine.
Jonah followed behind them, carrying a lantern wrapped tightly to keep its light dim. “I circled the harbor before we left,” he said quietly. “Didn’t see anyone but that doesn’t mean they weren’
