Sleep did not come easily anymore.
Not since the seal had been broken and something vast and ancient had settled beneath Aya's skin, quiet only when she forced it to be. Even in stillness, she could feel it - like a second pulse, slower and deeper than her own heartbeat, patient and waiting.
So she rose.
The corridors of Athax were hushed at this hour, lit only by low-burning sconces and the occasional lantern carried by passing guards. Aya walked without escort tonight, her steps soft against the stone, cloak drawn loosely around her shoulders more for habit than warmth.
