Elle POV
Morning does not arrive in the underground fortress the way it should.
There is no sunrise here. No gradual spilling of gold across stone floors, no birds greeting the day, no gentle cue that sleep has loosened its grip. Instead, morning announces itself in subtler ways—ways you only notice when you’ve learned to listen.
The wards breathe differently.
Their hum lowers, easing from the tight vigilance of night into something looser, watchful but not alarmed. Water shifts through channels hidden deep within the stone. Somewhere far off, a door opens, then closes again.
And I realize I am standing.
Not waking.
Not rising.
Standing.
I freeze mid-step, my bare foot hovering just above the cool stone floor. The corridor stretches ahead of me, softly lit by embedded runes glowin
