The humming deepened as Liora stepped past the fallen gates. It wasn't sound alone—it thrummed through her bones, crawled beneath her skin, and made her chest tighten.
The streets of Caelthorn were half-buried in rubble, but the old banners still clung to walls, torn and faded. Once, the silver sun of her order had flown proudly here. Now the cloth hung in tatters, desecrated by soot and claw marks.
Kael's boots crunched against scattered glass as he followed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the city still breathes."
"It does," Liora whispered. "But not as it should."
As if in answer, the hum surged—followed by the grinding roar of stone shifting. A collapsed tower at the far end of the street shuddered and split. Dust exploded into the air. Out of the ruin clawed a figure of blackened armor fused with shards of rock, its hollow helm glowing with pale fire.
A revenant.
Kael cursed under his breath. "The dead don't rest here, do they?"
The creature's head snapped toward them, the fire in its hollow eyes flaring brighter. It raised a sword forged from broken masonry, jagged and cruel.
Liora's pulse raced. She drew her blade, the steel singing as it caught the light. For a moment, she thought she heard her old commander's voice—echoes of a battle long lost.
"Kael," she said, her voice steady despite the dread coiling in her gut, "if this city still breathes… then its heart is rotten."
The revenant charged.
Chapter Two Ends