The capital did not sleep.
It watched.
Selene stood alone in the highest chamber of the eastern spire, her reflection stretched thin across darkened glass. The city lights flickered below like scattered embers.
She closed her eyes.
She did not summon full power.
Only a thread.
Thin.
Precise.
A long distance pulse woven with corrupted blood.
It traveled not through air but through lineage memory.
Through the same ancient frequency that had stirred beneath Ravenspire's cliffs.
She did not aim for Elara.
Not yet.
She aimed for something older.
Instructor Raven.
The pulse crossed distance silently.
Over sea.
Over stone.
Over sleeping villages.
Until it brushed Ravenspire's southern air.
In the lower training yard, Raven stood barefoot on cold stone.
His eyes were closed.
His breathing steady.
The tremor from days ago still lingered faintly in the ground.
Then
He felt it.
A foreign pulse.
Dark.
Testing.
Measured.
He did not open his eyes immediately.
