The heart of the Veiled City was not a throne room or a temple. It was a cavern.
We descended through levels of increasing silence, past gardens where phosphorescent fungi painted the walls in swirling patterns of bioluminescence, past chambers where Fae artisans worked with materials I couldn't identify, shaping beauty from raw magic. With each step, the song of the Heartstone grew louder, more insistent. It was no longer a distant melody but a living presence, a voice that vibrated in my sternum and hummed along my nerves.
Thorne led the way, his antlers now adorned with small, chiming crystals that responded to the Heartstone's frequency. Behind me walked Damien and Selene, their presence a grounding weight. The Council had granted them access to the threshold of the Heartstone's cham
