Chapter 21 – The Whisper Beneath
The longhouse was still when Valtor returned.
The fire had burned low, its light painting the stone floor in restless shadows. Outside, morning labored to lift the mist from the village walls, but inside, the air remained thick — not with smoke, but with something heavier. Something that did not burn away.
Lilith stood by the high windows, arms folded, her cloak trailing like ink across the worn stone. Her crimson eyes watched the haze beyond without blinking.
Lysanthir remained seated, unmoving, as if carved from the very air he commanded.
Valtor crossed the hall with slow, deliberate steps, his tail curling once behind him before falling still. He stopped a few paces from the hearth, the tension in his frame barely restrained.
"It is still here," Valtor said.
Lilith turned slightly, her gaze sharp. "You feel it too."
Valtor's jaw flexed, but he nodded.
"Since last night. It hasn't touched the walls again. But it lingers."
He glanced toward the far end of the hall, where the great doors remained barred. His voice lowered.
"I saw it. Before. Near the training yard."