CHAPTER FIVE: THE GLYPH BENEATH THE GATE (Part three)
The hum wasn't music.
It wasn't noise.
It was pattern.
A rhythm older than sound, deeper than memory.
It didn't rise—it folded inward.
Coiling like a ribbon of resonance winding its way through Zephryn's spine.
He staggered back half a step.
Not from pain.
From recognition.
Kaelen reached out instinctively. "Zeph—"
"Don't," Zephryn said quietly. "It's not hurting me."
But his eyes weren't steady.
Selka stood beside him, expression unreadable. Her hand lowered toward the glyph—not touching, just near.
The hum shifted. Just slightly.
It was reacting to her too.
Kaelen's voice dropped. "What is this?"
Yolti stepped forward now. "Liraen?"
The instructor still hadn't moved.
She stood at the far end of the room, robes motionless, gaze fixed on the glyph like she was watching a clock she couldn't turn.
"The Veil has four roots," she said at last.
Her voice was low. Weighted.
"Memory. Flame. Pulse. Void."
She stepped forward once. Her foot made no sound.
"This glyph predates all known classifications. It doesn't belong to a school or a Veilmark family."
She stopped just short of the light's edge.
"And yet it remembers both of you."
Zephryn's voice was raw. "Why?"
Liraen didn't blink.
"That is not my answer to give."
The hum faded.
The glyph dimmed, like an ember cooling into stone.
And when it vanished… it didn't disappear.
It simply became unseen again.
Waiting. Watching.
Zephryn lowered his hand.
Selka stepped back.
No one said anything.
Until Kaelen muttered, "You think this is why the king gave you that pendant?"
Zephryn didn't answer.
But the pendant pulsed once against his chest.
Like it already had.