The hunters led us toward the Spire, but the journey was unlike any I had ever taken. As we walked, I realized that the “magic” of this era wasn’t a hidden secret or a forbidden weapon; it was the atmosphere itself. The silver fire in my veins felt different here—it didn't feel like a power I had to desperately pull from the air or ignite with my rage. It felt like a conversation I was already having with the world, a constant, low-level hum of belonging.
“I am Elara,” I said, keeping my head high and my spine straight as we entered the Great Hall of the Spire.
The hall was a cathedral of stone and light, filled with the heavy, comforting smell of roasting meat and cedar smoke. There were no thrones here, no cold hierarchies of silver and glass. Instead, there was a circle of massive s
