Avy: Scott

The rock didn’t open. It sang —a low, harmonic note that vibrated in her molars. And then the seam widened into an archway, beyond which lay not darkness, but a soft, amber glow.

“One condition,” she said.

That was then. This was now.

And in the Echo Lode, for the first time in a thousand years, the orbs began to hum in harmony—welcoming their newest keeper home. avy scott