Chapter 28 When Memory Burned Through Time

It started with wind.

Not cold.

Not loud.

But charged.

Students lifted their heads across courtyards, libraries, practice rings.

Not because they heard something.

Because something heard them.

A pulse.

Low.

Rhythmic.

Alive.

Like breath.

Like heartbeat.

Not human.

Not house-bound.

Magi...

Login and Continue Reading