The storm didn’t come with thunder.
It came with drums.
Low and distant at first, like the echo of a heart beating in the earth. Then louder. Closer. Rhythms not of war, but of summoning. The ground quivered beneath their feet, and every tree in the Hollow Lands bent slightly east—as if bowing.
Something was coming.
No, someone.
Aelira stood at the edge of the grove, wind wrapping around her like a cloak. She wore no crown. No armor. Only the light in her eyes and the echo of divinity thrumming through her veins. She had not slept in days did not need to.
Astren stood beside her, watching the eastern ridge where the trees trembled.
“Scouts say they carry banners marked in black,” he said. “Unseen runes. Not of any kingdom we know.”
“They’re not from a kingdom,” Aelira murmured. “Th
