Chapter 59 — Echoes Beneath the Silver Sky
The dawn that rose over Moonshadow Ridge that morning carried a strange stillness—too quiet, too clean, like the world was holding its breath after a storm. The mist had not yet lifted from the valley, curling around the charred ruins of what was once the Crescent Watchtower. Its stones were blackened, its symbols faded, and its silence, absolute.
Elena stood at the ridge’s edge, her hands clasped before her, her cloak fluttering in the cold wind. She looked down toward the forest where the first light of dawn spilled like liquid gold between the trees. The earth was still scarred—splintered from the night of battle—but the air… the air felt lighter.
Or perhaps that was only what she wanted to believe.
Behind her, footsteps approached softly.
