The oracle lived in the mountains beyond the Crescent border, high above the cloud line, in a cave where fire never died.
Ivy stood at the base of the climb, Kael beside her, Ember behind them. The sky was an eerie blue-gray, and the wind howled like it carried voices from the past.
“You’re sure she’s still alive?” Kael asked.
“She’s not alive,” Ember whispered. “She endures.”
They began the ascent.
Hours passed.
The path narrowed. Snow swirled around them. But the closer they got to the cave, the warmer the wind became — dry and metallic, laced with embers.
Finally, they reached the entrance.
A figure waited in the dark.
She was older than time. Her skin was like blackened stone, glowing from within like dying coals. Her eyes were molten gold, and when she spoke, it was with a vo
