The whisper came slowly.
Not through the air.
Not through the walls.
Through her mind.
Elena's breath caught as the chamber seemed to shrink around her. The candle trembled violently in her hand while the carved eyes along the walls remained fixed on her.
Watching.
Waiting.
The whisper rose again from the depths below the stone.
Elena…
Lucian stepped closer immediately.
"Don't listen to it," he said sharply.
But it was too late.
The voice wasn't something she could simply ignore. It moved through her thoughts like cold water sliding beneath ice.
Aldren watched her carefully, fascination lighting his tired eyes.
"You hear it," the old man murmured.
Elena didn't answer.
Her focus had drifted somewhere deeper.
The whisper continued.
Not words this time—images.
Flashes of something ancient.
Dark forests where the land looked untouched by human hands.
A hill rising from the mist.
Stone being carved.
A house slowly built above something buried.
Elena staggered slightly.
Lucian grabbed her arm.
"Stay with me."
She blinked hard, forcing the images away.
"What… was that?" she whispered.
Aldren spoke before Lucian could.
"The Watcher remembering."
Lucian shot him a cold glare.
"You're not helping."
But Aldren only shrugged.
"The truth rarely helps."
The chamber trembled again.
The carvings along the walls began shifting faster now. The stone eyes seemed almost alive as they rotated toward Elena.
Then something changed.
One of the carvings cracked.
A thin line split the stone around the eye.
Elena stepped back.
"What is it doing?"
Lucian's voice had lost some of its calm.
"It's trying to communicate."
Aldren smiled faintly.
"No," he said.
"It's trying to open."