CHAPTER TEN: THREADS OF THE UNHEARD (Part six)
The gate didn't open.
But the hum deepened.
It wrapped around his wrist,
curling up the pulse mark beneath his sleeve like vines made of memory.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't pull away.
He just pressed his hand harder into the stone.
"I'm not here to prove anything," he said quietly.
No one around to hear it.
No eyes watching.
No instructors hiding behind scrolls.
Just the wind.
Just the gate.
Just the weight.
"I'm not here to fight for recognition.
I'm not here for a necklace.
I'm not here for your approval."
The glyphs shimmered.
A dull, silver glow beneath the surface.
Not bright. Not seen. Just… known.
Zephryn closed his eyes.
"I'm here to remember."
Behind him, Bubbalor stirred—
ears lifting, low hum rising at last.
But it wasn't defensive.
It was mourning.
Because the moment the words left his mouth,
the stone beneath his hand responded.
A pulse.
Low and steady.
Not from the gate—
From the world beneath it.
Something older.
Something buried.
And it knew him.