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Chapter 22 - Shadows on the horizon

Dawn arrived without the song of birds or the sound of water. The sun, weak and pale behind a reddish haze, rose like a bloody coin over the broken horizon of Valyria. The seven left the fifth tower with the heavy silence of those who have left behind more than a place; each carried the invisible vestiges of the trials the tower had imposed on them.

The air outside smelled different. Not the stench of burnt stone and rusted iron as before, but something fainter, like ash cooling in an ancient sea. Vaemor Xhaelarys led the way, his gaze fixed on the east, where the ruins leaned like weary corpses and the volcanic hills formed a rugged relief. No one spoke for the first few hours of the march. The tension was like a third sun upon their backs, burning them from within.

"We are not the same people who came in," Maekor Dravion finally said, breaking the silence. "And I don't just mean... this." He ran a hand through his hair, now lighter, almost metallic gold. Zaryon Velquarys smiled wryly.

"Are you saying that as a warning... or as a threat?"

The exchange didn't go any further, but it broke the calm in the group. Aerys Qhaedros walked a few steps behind, muttering words in Old Valyrian, as if making sure his tongue didn't rust. Kaelyth Thalmyx frequently scanned the sky, as if waiting for something to descend from between the clouds.

The landscape changed as they moved further away. The remains of cobblestone paths, covered in black lichen, were lost beneath the twisted vegetation that grew between deep crevices. Strange rock formations rose on either side, their shapes so peculiar they seemed molded by human hands, or something similar. And, among the shadows, movement was hinted at. Always in the corner of my eye, always too far away to confirm.

Rhaedor Vorys was the first to notice clearly.

"They're following us." He said it without slowing down, with a calmness more disturbing than any shout.

"Creatures?" Daenyr Vhaely asked.

"No. Or if they are, they don't behave like animals. They move with... purpose."

For the rest of the day, that presence became constant. They heard no footsteps, but they felt the pressure of unseen gazes. More than once, Vaemor thought he saw gray silhouettes on the cliffs, long hair whipping in the breeze, but they always disappeared before he could point.

As evening fell, they came to an area where the ground turned glassy, as if a river of lava had petrified centuries ago. There, heat rose from the fissures, and the creaking of the rocks made it seem as if the earth breathed. They spent the night in a corner protected by an obsidian wall, but no one slept. Zaryon claimed to have heard voices, like whispers in Valyrian, mingled with the whistling of the wind. The next morning, they continued their journey. The route to the sixth tower, according to the visions the fifth had shown them, led through a narrow gorge where ancient dragon statues, eroded and decapitated, guarded the entrance. However, something about the arrangement of those figures seemed… to have changed.

Kaelyth was the first to comment.

"Someone has been here. Not long ago."

"Or something like that," Aerys corrected.

As they entered the pass, shadows enveloped them. The sound of the nearby sea rumbled between the walls, but also another sound, deeper and more constant, like a distant drum. The narrowing of the terrain forced them to walk one at a time, increasing their sense of vulnerability.

When they finally emerged from the ravine, the horizon opened before them. In the distance, on a cracked plain, a dark silhouette rose: the sixth tower. It was taller than the previous ones, and its summit seemed wrapped in a halo of greenish light that throbbed, like a diseased heart. Vaemor stopped.

"There it is."

"Yes," Rhaedor replied. "And we are not alone."

On the slope that descended toward the tower, fleeting like specters, figures moved. This time they were unmistakable: they were humanoid, with long, worn robes, white or silver hair, and faces hidden behind crude masks. They watched, motionless, as if they knew the seven would come toward them sooner or later.

The breeze carried a salty scent mixed with something metallic. No one said a word. The sixth tower was ahead... and the shadows that followed them had decided to show themselves.

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