The sun was almost gone by the time Seris and Ravel put distance between themselves and the ravine. The horizon glowed with a last line of red that faded more with every step they took. The plains stretched ahead in dimming gold, the wind sharp and restless. Behind them, the ravine hummed like a buried engine. That hum was faint but constant, the kind of sound that slipped beneath thought and whispered against the bones.
Ravel kept glancing over his shoulder until Seris finally stopped and caught his chin, turning his head forward.
"Eyes ahead," she said. "Nothing useful is behind us anymore."
Ravel nodded. His legs still trembled from the climb and the fear that had chased him up the stone. His arms ached with a dull, heavy fatigue. The sphere pressed warm against his chest as if reminding him that he was not done yet.
Seris set a quick pace. The ground rose slightly, forming a gentle ridge of grass. Ravel followed close, trying to match her rhythm. He wanted to ask more questions, but the words caught in his throat. Everything felt too large, too heavy, like he had stepped into a current that would pull him under if he thought too deeply.
The sky darkened into a deep blue. Stars began to appear one by one. Ravel flinched at the sight of them, remembering the vision. The drifting lights. The straight paths. The waiting gate. It was too vivid to dismiss as a trick of fear.
He quickened his pace to walk beside Seris.
"That vision," he said. "Have you ever heard of anything like it? Something that shares memories like that."
Seris did not answer immediately. The wind pulled strands of hair across her face. She brushed them aside with a sigh.
"There are stories," she said at last. "Fragments. Old tales of starborn relics that carry memories from before the first kingdoms. But no one treats those stories as fact. Not even the scholars. They call it ancestral fiction."
Ravel frowned. "Why?"
"Because anything that old should have turned to dust. But if something survived, if something was preserved that long, it would not be accidental. Which means someone or something cared enough to keep it alive. And the empire does not like mysteries it cannot control."
Ravel hugged his arms. "Do you think the sphere is one of those relics?"
Seris paused. "I do not know what the sphere is. But I know nothing crafted by human hands reacts the way it does to ancient resonance."
They continued in silence for a while. The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of distant water. Ravel recognized it as Thornwater River. They were getting close to the route Seris had mentioned. The river would make it harder for infantry to track them and would scatter their trail. That thought gave him a thin sliver of relief.
But the relief did not last.
A distant pulse of violet light flickered behind them, reflecting off the low clouds.
Ravel stopped, breath catching. "The siphon."
Seris turned slowly. "They fired it again."
The light echoed for several heartbeats before fading. The ground under their feet trembled a little, far softer than before but enough for the plains to feel alive in a different way. The ravine hummed in answer.
Seris's face tightened. "That was a wide-range search blast. They are trying to collapse the valley enough to reveal anything hidden in the rock."
Ravel stared back at the horizon. "Will they find the seal?"
"No. But they will know something stirred. And they will blame you."
Ravel forced his shaking hands to still. "I did not do anything."
"You did enough by touching the sphere." Seris placed a hand on his shoulder. "None of this is your fault. But that will not matter to them."
Ravel nodded weakly. They resumed walking, the grass rustling around their ankles.
The stars brightened overhead. The moon rose as a pale silver arc, casting faint light across the plains. Shadows stretched in long lines. The air cooled.
Ravel broke the silence again. "Seris, what will they do if they find evidence something ancient woke up?"
Seris frowned at the question. "The empire does not fear war. It fears uncertainty. If it finds proof of ancient power that cannot be controlled, it will attempt to cage it or erase it."
"What if it cannot be caged?"
"Then they will try to destroy it. Even if it costs lives."
Ravel felt his stomach twist. "Would they destroy an entire valley?"
Seris stared at the distant horizon. "They once burned a forest twice the size of Serrin to stop a single artifact from regenerating. The answer is yes."
Ravel felt sick. "Then they might destroy the ravine."
"They might," Seris said. "Which is why we keep moving."
The grass thickened as they approached a more uneven part of the plains. Clumps of stone broke through the soil. The wind grew sharper. Ravel could hear the faint rush of water now, steady and reassuring.
They reached a shallow ridge overlooking Thornwater River. The moonlight reflected off the fast-moving current like silver threads. Seris let out a slow breath.
"This is good. The river will hide our scent and mask our tracks. We follow the bank south until we reach the broken bridge. After that, we head into the Stonebrush Woods."
Ravel winced. "Is that not where the banshee owls nest?"
"Yes."
"That is not comforting."
"It is better than soldiers with siphons."
Ravel sighed, resigned. Seris started down the ridge. Ravel followed more slowly, careful not to slip on the gravel.
When they reached the riverbank, Seris crouched and dipped her hand into the water. "Cold. Good. It will numb your hands and feet but keep you alert."
"Wait," Ravel said. "We are walking in the water?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Until I say otherwise."
Ravel groaned. Seris smirked slightly, then stepped into the river. The water reached her calves, icy enough to make her gasp. Ravel followed, wincing as the cold bit into his skin.
They walked downstream, each step sinking into soft silt. The current tugged at their legs, pushing against their knees. Ravel almost fell twice but caught himself.
The river drowned the sound of their footsteps. The flow washed away their prints. Ravel felt the tension in his chest ease a little. The empire might be powerful, but even it could not track footprints washed away by rushing water.
The moon climbed higher. The world grew quieter. Only the river and the wind broke the silence.
Ravel looked up at the stars again.
"Seris," he said after a long moment, "do you think the vision was a warning?"
"It could be."
"Or a memory."
"Possibly."
"Or a message."
Seris hesitated, then said softly, "Yes. That is what frightens me."
Ravel felt the cold water numb his legs, but his spine prickled. "Why?"
"Because messages have intent. And intent means someone wants something from you."
Ravel glanced at the sphere through the fabric of his satchel. It pulsed faintly, almost like a heartbeat aligning with his.
"What if it wants me to go somewhere?"
Seris stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Then you must decide whether you are following the sphere or following yourself."
Ravel nodded slowly. The question settled into his mind like a stone dropped into deep water.
The riverbank widened ahead. Seris climbed out first and motioned for Ravel to do the same. He stepped onto the cold grass, dripping, shivering, but relieved to be on solid ground again.
As they moved into the shadows of the plains, a distant sound reached them. A faint whine. A hum in the sky.
Seris stiffened. "Glider."
Ravel's breath froze.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him under the cover of low shrubs. "Stay low. Do not breathe loud. Do not look up."
The glider swept across the plains in a wide arc, its searchlights slicing through the darkness. Ravel pressed his face to the ground. His heart pounded. His palms dug into the cold soil.
The sphere warmed.
The glider slowed.
Ravel felt panic rise. "It senses the sphere," he whispered.
"Stay still," Seris said. "It may not have a precise read."
The glider hovered longer than Ravel could tolerate. The searchlight moved across the ridge, then over the river, then across the plains again.
Finally, it banked away.
The hum faded into the night.
Ravel exhaled shakily. Seris touched his shoulder.
"We were lucky. The river confused their sensors."
Ravel nodded, though his chest tightened again. "They will not stop."
"No. They will not."
They walked again, moving south along the plains. The moon dipped lower. The night deepened. The river was now only a silver line behind them.
Ravel felt the weight of everything on his shoulders.
The ravine.The vision.The sphere.The empire.His father.
The world felt larger than it had any right to be.
After nearly an hour of walking, Seris slowed.
"We will rest soon," she said. "Just a bit farther to the broken bridge."
Ravel nodded, barely listening. His mind was somewhere else. He kept thinking about the seal. About the breath rising from deep underground. About the way the sphere had burned against his chest.
He remembered the whisper that was not a whisper.Not yet.
He remembered the vision's sky, scattered with drifting stars.
He remembered the hand reaching toward him.
He remembered the gate made of light that felt like it was waiting.
Waiting for him.
Ravel swallowed hard.
He wondered what would happen when that gate opened.