The war drums began with the wind.
Low. Distant. Like a heartbeat crawling up through the roots of the world.
Aelira stood at the edge of the pass where forest gave way to scorched stone. Below, the remnants of Falrow smoked in silence—once a village, now a warning.
The Hollow was waking faster than she’d expected.
“We don’t have much time,” she murmured.
Cain came to stand beside her, arms crossed, eyes scanning the valley like a predator. “There’s never time when gods get involved.”
Behind them, the Bloodbound waited. Silent. Ready.
And now, others had joined them.
Vess stood with her knives wrapped in prayer-cloth, eyes lined with ash. Kael had brought the Rift-born—a band of former wardens turned rogue, covered in ritual scars and relic bone armor. Even the Whisper Wolves had a
