The sky burned low, a fading ember casting its dying light across the horizon. Ash fell like silent snow, coating the cracked earth beneath Mara's worn boots. She paused, the wind carrying soft whispers—ghosts of voices from a world long lost.
For years, the Ember Sky had been the last witness to their stories: stories of hope, betrayal, and a promise never kept. Mara traced her fingers over the charred wood of the old watchtower, her heart pounding like a distant drumbeat. Tonight, something was coming—she could feel it in the air, a tremor beneath the whispering wind.
She pulled her cloak tighter as the shadows stretched. Somewhere beyond the valley, a faint glow pulsed—a flicker of life or a spark of danger. Mara had learned to read these signs, to listen beneath the silence. The ember's glow wasn't just the dying light of the world; it was a call.
A call to uncover the secrets buried beneath the ashes. A call to face the past before the whispers turned to screams.
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