Chapter 37. The Duel of Dawn and Dusk

The circle hung in the clearing like a held breath that had forgotten how to be released. Around a stretch of bare earth, massive stones—each taller than a man’s outstretched arm—curved in a careful arc, their surfaces carved deep with ancient runes whose grooves tasted of salt on the air and carried a faint whisper of ash.

Sunlight drifted there only if it willed itself past the grey-green canopy overhead; otherwise, the place rested in a hush that tilted toward inevitability. Above, the twin crescent moons hovered, each blade-thin curve poised like a silent promise of reckoning.

Lora stepped into that quiet, and at the same moment her skin responded even before her thoughts formed into words. Beneath the soft linen at her collarbone, the golden mark trembled as though it had found its own heartbeat—a faint, pulsing glow beneath fabric. Along her forearm, a silver sigil flickered once in acknowledgment, then settled back into a calm that reminded her of a well-trained