The moon had not yet set when Aria rose from her cot, a sense of urgency tugging at her ribs like an invisible hand. She wrapped a cloak around her shoulders and stepped out into the cold, dew-drenched morning. The fortress still slept, unaware of the shift the earth had made beneath them. But she felt it. The balance was tipping. The seal had weakened, and the shadows would return with a fury they weren't yet prepared for.
Kael met her on the outer rampart, already awake, already armed. His eyes locked with hers, wordless understanding passing between them. Neither needed to ask what the other felt.
"The silence before a storm," Kael said finally, his breath misting in the early dawn.
"Or the eye of it," Aria replied, scanning the horizon.
The camp began to stir behind them. Warriors emerged from tents, blacksmiths relit their forges, and scouts returned with news from the surrounding territories. Tension clung to them all like smoke.
