The air grew heavier the deeper they ventured, the stillness of the smaller chamber fading behind them as they pressed forward. The walls of the cavern widened once more, and the faint silver glow of the vial trembled against jagged stone, throwing long shadows that seemed to shift and twist as if alive.
Lira felt the shift before she saw it—an oppressive weight, as though centuries of grief pressed down upon her chest. Her steps slowed, her fingers clutching the vial more tightly.
Then she heard it.
At first, a faint echo—metal striking metal. A low roar of voices. The rhythmic thrum of drums. But as they entered the heart of the cavern, the sounds swelled until the walls themselves shook with the force of remembered war.
