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Chapter 37 – Morveth’s Mask
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Chapter 39 – Broken Chains
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... ath of prophecy stirred again. Not loudly. Not completely. But enough. Enough to fracture silence, enough to wake runes once buried in faith. The temples no longer stood in certainty.
The candle had melted past its final ring.
Its wax pooled at the edge of the iron saucer, then spilled—slow, deliberate—onto the cracked sigil carved into the reliquary floor. There, the wax hissed. Not from heat, but from protest. From memory.
Prexie Ink sat cross-legged beside it, veiled i ...
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