The valley was quiet again.
But the silence had changed.
Where once it had been sacred, now it felt scorched. The Cradle pulsed slowly behind Rael, dimmer than before, as if wounded by what it had seen. Smoke curled from the edges of broken stone. The scent of blood lingered in the air.
Rael stood at the heart of it, arms limp at his sides. His body ached. Not from wounds, but from weight. The power inside him had expanded too quickly, like fire forced through too narrow a funnel. He was still standing. But barely.
Maerin approached him carefully.
"You did not just survive. You pushed the Cradle beyond its own laws."
Rael looked at his hands. The glyphs had faded again, but faint traces still glimmered like coals under the skin.
"I did not know what I was doing."
Maerin chuckled. "That is the most dangerous part."
He turned, scanning the horizon beyond the shattered altar.
"They will not wait long. The Bloodbinders will report to the Houses. And once House Vire hears of this, they will send more than masked priests."
Rael nodded slowly. "Let them."
Maerin raised a brow. "You are not ready. The next ones will not try to bind you. They will try to break you."
Rael's voice was low. Steady.
"Then I learn how not to break."
The old hunter studied him. There was no arrogance in the boy's voice. No recklessness. Only the calm certainty of someone who had seen his death and chose to keep walking.
"You are changing," Maerin said.
Rael looked back at the Cradle.
"So is the world."
They left the valley before noon. The mist had returned, slower now, curling around their legs as they made their way north through the broken pass. The further they walked, the more Rael began to feel it again. The hum in his chest. The soft echo of something ancient, watching through his blood.
He dreamed while walking.
In his mind he saw fire swallowing towers of stone. A man with burning eyes sitting upon a throne of veins. A woman whispering in the dark, her voice wrapped in chains.
Each vision came with pain. But not the pain of injury. It was memory. Someone else's. Something older.
At dusk, Maerin stopped.
"Tomorrow we reach the Hollow Bridge. Beyond that, the lands are controlled by House Saerin."
Rael blinked. "The mindshapers."
Maerin nodded. "They will not fight with blades. They will twist thought. Bend truths. Break your will."
Rael sat beside a cold stream and stared into the water. His reflection looked different already. Harder. Tired. But awake.
"Let them try."
Maerin chuckled. "You sound more like them than you know."
Rael did not respond. He dipped his hand into the water. It shimmered faintly as his presence touched it. Small glyphs formed on the surface and vanished like steam.
In the dark above them, a star blinked. Then another.
Far to the west, a signal fire rose from the cliffs of Karnathi. A tower burning red.
House Vire had seen.
The hunt had begun.