The dawn after the battle with the wraiths brought no peace.
The Keeper of Shadow—whose name had once been *Maeron*—sat apart from the others, silent and still as the pillars around them. The weight of his memories pressed down like a second sky, and though he had joined them in word, Elara could feel the resistance in his soul like oil on water.
"He doesn't trust us," Ryssa muttered over the morning fire, gnawing on dried fruit.
"He doesn't trust himself," Kael corrected. "Shadow doesn't forget like the other elements. It keeps tally."
Elara stared at Maeron's back. "Then we need to remind him of who he was—not just what he lost."
Tovan squatted beside the fire, poking it with a stick. "He hasn't even cracked a joke. How do you guys live like this? All grim prophecy and looming doom?"
"I don't remember you being so cheerful in the Vaultglass," Kael said dryly.
Tovan grinned. "Yeah, but back then I thought I was going to die. Now? I'm just *probably* going to die."
Ryssa chuckled, then stopped abruptly, rising to her feet. "We're being watched."
In an instant, the air thickened. Maeron turned without being asked, his eyes narrowing as the shadows around them began to tremble unnaturally.
Elara's fire flickered. "It's not the Woken?"
"No," Maeron said, his voice like crushed velvet. "Something older. Something from the Thread Between."
Kael swore. "Threadspawn?"
"Worse," Maeron whispered. "A Weaver."
***
They broke camp swiftly, moving toward a canyon of petrified bones known as the Spine of Asketra. Once the remains of a leviathan believed to have carved rivers with its breath, the jagged ridges and narrow passageways offered only the illusion of shelter.
"Elara," Kael said quietly as they rode. "The Weavers don't just track movement. They track *memory*. If we keep speaking of what we were, it'll draw them faster."
"But we have to remember," she said. "That's the only way we stay ahead."
"I didn't say stop," Kael replied. "Just... choose your memories carefully."
That evening, they found a small alcove carved beneath the ribcage of the great beast, the bones fused to the cliffside like ivory sails. It wasn't much, but it kept the wind at bay.
Maeron finally spoke, his voice emerging like smoke from a long-sealed chamber. "I know where the next sigil lies."
Four heads turned at once.
"The Keeper of Wind," he said, closing his eyes. "Her name is *Aelis*. I saw her in my dreams."
"Dreams?" Ryssa scoffed. "That's your great lead?"
"No," he said calmly. "It's the Echoes. They're coming faster now. Pieces of who we were... who we failed to be. I don't think we're the only ones waking up."
Kael's face darkened. "Then the Harrower's waking too."
Silence fell like frost.
Tovan cleared his throat. "So where do we find this Aelis?"
Maeron opened his palm, revealing a small glass orb pulsing with faint blue light. "North. Across the Silver Reaches. There's a tower that sings in the wind. The locals call it *Whisperhold*. She's there."
Elara took the orb gently. "How did you get this?"
"I didn't," he said. "It found me."
Kael stepped forward. "We can't just charge in. Whisperhold was a sanctum once—but it's been corrupted. If she's there, it may be a trap."
"Then we spring it," Ryssa said, cracking her knuckles. "Simple."
Tovan muttered, "You people seriously need hobbies."
Elara tucked the orb into her cloak. "We ride at first light."
***
The journey north took six days.
The landscape changed slowly, from barren desert to wind-scoured plateaus where the air tasted of salt and storm. Ruined waystones marked the path, each etched with sigils so old even Kael could only guess at their meaning.
On the fifth night, a storm forced them to shelter in the ruins of a collapsed observatory.
Elara sat beside Maeron, who had taken to speaking in half-riddles and silences that made her nervous.
"You've seen her?" she asked.
Maeron nodded. "Aelis was... untamed. Wind incarnate. She never stopped moving. I doubt she stayed long in any one body."
"But you're sure she's at Whisperhold?"
"She's trapped," he said. "That place was built to study the skies—but it was repurposed. After the Scarring, they turned it into a prison. For air. For thought."
Elara shivered. "Who would do that?"
"Mortals who feared the storm more than they feared stillness."
Kael approached, handing her a steaming tin of broth. "Keepers were never meant to be chained."
Maeron didn't look at him. "And yet you followed the Vow like a leash."
Kael bristled. "You chose exile. Don't talk to me about loyalty."
"I chose clarity," Maeron snapped. "You chose to forget."
Elara stood, placing herself between them. "Stop. We need to stay united."
They both looked away.
But the damage had already been done.
***
Whisperhold appeared on the horizon like a dream out of balance.
A spire of pale stone rising from a cliff above the sea, its structure twisted by the wind itself. Balconies hung like petals, glass tubes wound upward like veins, and the top spun ever so slightly, catching the wind and singing in eerie tones.
"It's beautiful," Elara breathed.
"And wrong," Ryssa added.
Kael unsheathed his blade. "We approach from the east. There's a servant path—hidden beneath the cliff."
They left the sandfoxes tethered in a hollow and made the climb in silence. The wind howled around them, a chaotic voice with no tongue.
The moment they crossed the threshold, the world *changed*.
No longer just a building, Whisperhold felt like a mind. Walls pulsed with breath. Windows blinked. Every step echoed longer than it should.
"We're inside something alive," Tovan whispered.
"Elara," Kael said, "you lead."
She did.
The shard she carried pulsed steadily now, guiding her upward through the spiraling corridors. Rooms filled with instruments of air and memory passed by—abandoned journals, feathers floating midair, broken harps that strummed themselves.
They reached the heart of the tower just as the wind died completely.
There, suspended in a cocoon of translucent silk, was Aelis.
She looked barely older than Elara—pale skin, hair like ash, robes that moved even when the air did not. Her eyes were closed, her body curled as if dreaming.
But her face was twisted in pain.
"She's trapped in the Inversion Loop," Maeron whispered. "A stasis between inhale and exhale."
"How do we wake her?" Elara asked.
Kael raised his blade. "We cut the cocoon."
"No!" Maeron barked. "That could shatter her. She's woven into the wind. You break it wrong, and you tear her soul apart."
Elara approached slowly. The shard in her palm glowed with heat.
"She's trying to speak," Elara murmured. "Listen."
They fell silent.
The wind began to hum again—soft, like a lullaby.
Then came the whisper:
**"Remember me."**
Without thinking, Elara placed her hand on the cocoon.
The world shattered.
***
She stood in a sky without ground.
Wind tore past her in threads of light and sound, carrying voices from every age. In the distance, Aelis floated—arms outstretched, eyes open, but unseeing.
"Aelis!" Elara shouted.
The wind stole her voice.
She tried again, focusing fire into her chest, letting it build until it flared outward in a golden pulse.
Aelis turned.
"Elara," she said softly. "You've changed."
"We all have," Elara said, stepping closer. "But we're still here. We need you."
Aelis reached for her. "I don't know how to come back."
"You don't have to know," Elara said. "Just feel."
She took Aelis's hand.
The wind howled.
And they fell.
***
Elara gasped, pulling her hand back as the cocoon unraveled like mist.
Aelis collapsed into her arms, breathing hard, blinking as if light hurt.
"You brought me back," she whispered.
Ryssa knelt beside them. "You're safe now."
Aelis smiled faintly. "There is no safe. Not anymore. The Harrower walks. He comes to rend the sky."
Kael leaned forward. "Do you remember where he is?"
She shook her head. "No. But I know his goal. The Heartforge."
Elara's pulse quickened. "What is that?"
"The source of the leylines," Maeron said grimly. "A nexus of creation and end. If he corrupts it…"
"He reshapes the realm," Aelis finished. "In his image."
Tovan sat hard. "So. No pressure."
Elara helped Aelis to her feet.
"We go to the Heartforge," she said.
"No," Kael replied. "We go to the Mirrordeep. To reach the forge, we must first pass through the Gate of Echoes. And to do that, we'll need the Light Sigil."
"And the Keeper of Light," Maeron added.
Ryssa grunted. "Any idea who *that* is?"
Kael looked at Elara.
"I think I do," she said softly. "Because I saw her in a dream."
They gathered their things, helping Aelis steady herself as the tower began to tremble.
"Is it falling?" Tovan asked.
"No," Aelis said, eyes glowing faintly. "It's waking."
The tower let out a long, keening sigh—and from its highest chamber, a spiral of wind shot skyward like a beacon.
The Woken would see it.
So would the Harrower.
There was no more hiding now.