Winter approached with grim certainty. The wind that swept Starfall's ramparts brought both the golden remnants of autumn and the first bite of frost, pressing council and kingdom alike into a tense and restless quiet. Shadows lengthened in every hallway, and the lamps seemed to burn with a little less reassurance.
Ethan had slept poorly for a week; every night, every council session, the artifact called to him. Maelius's Heart was a presence more than an object now, its faint vibration lingering in the silence between debates. Half the council wanted it gone, a third demanded its power, and the rest argued for studies or rituals or new forms of stewardship. What no one would admit—not Lysander, not Kaelan, not even Mira—was that the Heart had begun to shape their thoughts, their fears, and their loyalty to the world Ethan was trying to build.
