The horn's echo lingered long after the sound itself faded, a low vibration that seemed to settle into the bones of the Grey Reach. Lyra felt it under her feet, through the walls, inside her chest where the Starfire had begun to stir with restless insistence.
Seris was already moving, her earlier calm replaced by sharp focus. Stay close to me, she said. Do not touch your power unless I tell you to.
Lyra nodded, swallowing the instinctive protest rising in her throat. Every part of her wanted to reach outward, to feel, to see, to understand what was approaching. But she forced herself to listen, to trust.
They joined the flow of Watchers converging toward the inner ring. The passages narrowed, then widened into a massive chamber carved like a bowl, tiered stone platforms circling a central floor etched with ancient runes. The air here was different, heavier, charged with something Lyra could not name.
Kaelin stood at the center, speaking in a low, commanding voice. The Reach has been marked. This is not an attack, not yet. It is a signal.
A murmur rippled through the gathered Watchers.
Marked how, someone asked.
Kaelin gestured toward the runes beneath his feet. The Whispering Veil was touched last night. Something answered. That answer was heard beyond these walls.
Lyra's stomach tightened. She felt Seris glance at her, brief but assessing.
Kaelin's gaze lifted, finding Lyra in the crowd. You felt it, did you not.
Lyra hesitated, then stepped forward. It was like being seen without eyes. Like something… recognized me.
A heavy silence followed.
That is the danger, Kaelin said. Recognition invites attention.
He motioned to the far edge of the chamber where three Watchers knelt around a stone plinth. Resting atop it was a flat shard of dark crystal, veined with faint silver lines that pulsed slowly, almost like a heartbeat.
This is a marker stone, Kaelin continued. We use it rarely. It binds a Starborn's signature to the Reach, masking it from distant sight, but it comes at a cost.
Lyra's pulse quickened. What cost?
Once bound, the Reach will feel you at all times, Seris said. And you will feel it. Distance will no longer mean separation.
Lyra looked at the stone. The Starfire stirred in response, uneasy, curious. It does not sound like much of a choice.
Kaelin's expression softened, just slightly. It is not. But neither is being hunted while unshielded.
Lyra thought of the shadow at the doorway, of the voice in her mind, of the word returns. She exhaled slowly. Do it.
Seris's hand tightened briefly on her shoulder. You understand what you are agreeing to.
Lyra nodded. I am already part of this, whether I want to be or not.
Kaelin inclined his head. Then step forward.
The chamber seemed to hold its breath as Lyra approached the plinth. The marker stone was colder than it looked, the air around it sharp against her skin. She extended her hand, stopping just above its surface.
Wait, Kaelin said. Do not reach with power. Let it come to you.
Lyra closed her eyes. She focused on her breathing, on the grounding techniques Seris had drilled into her. Slowly, the Starfire responded, not flaring, not surging, but unfurling like a cautious tide.
The stone pulsed brighter.
A thin thread of silver light rose from it, brushing Lyra's palm. The contact sent a jolt through her, not painful, but profound, like the moment before a memory surfaces.
Images flooded her mind. The Grey Reach as it once was, open to the sky, filled with voices and light. Starborn standing in a circle, hands joined, their power woven together. Then darkness, collapse, retreat.
She gasped, staggering slightly.
Seris steadied her. Hold on.
Lyra did. She let the images pass without chasing them, without fear. The thread of light thickened, wrapping gently around her wrist, sinking into her skin without breaking it.
The runes beneath her feet ignited, one by one.
Kaelin raised his voice. Bind complete.
The light snapped inward. The chamber dimmed.
Lyra opened her eyes, breath coming fast. Her wrist felt warm, faintly humming. When she looked down, a subtle sigil glowed just beneath the skin, silver blue and unmistakable.
It will fade from sight, Kaelin said. But not from sensation.
Lyra nodded slowly. I can feel… everything.
The Reach does that, Seris said quietly. In time, it will stop being overwhelming.
A Watcher approached Kaelin, urgency in his voice. Scouts report movement beyond the eastern tunnels. Not Council forces.
Kaelin's jaw tightened. How many.
Unknown. But they are not hiding.
Lyra's attention sharpened. Not the Council?
No, Seris said. Worse.
Before Lyra could ask, a low tremor rolled through the chamber. Dust shook loose from the ceiling. The marker sigil on Lyra's wrist flared instinctively.
Seris swore under her breath. They are testing the boundary.
Kaelin turned to Lyra. This is why restraint matters. What approaches will feel you now. If you react without control, you will show them exactly where you stand.
Lyra's heart pounded. Then tell me what to do.
Kaelin met her gaze. Nothing. Not yet.
The tremor faded, replaced by a heavy stillness.
Moments passed. Then minutes.
Finally, a Watcher returned, breathless. The presence has withdrawn. But it left something behind.
Kaelin did not relax. What.
A mark, the Watcher said. Carved into the outer stone. A symbol.
Lyra felt cold bloom in her chest. What symbol.
The Watcher hesitated, then spoke. The same one recorded in the old starfall texts. The sign of the Ashen Return.
The words echoed through Lyra like a bell struck too hard.
Seris looked at her, expression unreadable. It seems the skies are not just watching anymore.
Lyra curled her fingers into a fist, feeling the marker pulse beneath her skin. The fear was still there, but it no longer ruled her.
Whatever had marked the Reach had called her back once already.
And now, it was calling again.