The city thinned as they left Nocturne behind.
Stone gave way to cracked cobblestones, then to old streets where the lamps burned low and the wards were older than the buildings they clung to. Serena walked ahead, senses stretched, boots steady against the quiet. Valan followed a half step behind, silent as breath. The shadows bent toward him as though relieved to be claimed.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Serena broke it first. “If you’re going to trail me like a ghost, you might as well tell me what you know.”
Valan’s gaze moved over the street, reading the dark the way others read maps. “About what.”
“You heard the name,” she said. “You felt the shift.”
“Yes.”
“And.”
“And names like that do not surface without reason,” he replied. “They are anchors. Someone wants attention.”
