Red Street in Silverwood? Whole different beast compared to the rest of the city. It snakes through the old quarter, and yeah, the stones really are kinda reddish—blame the iron in the dirt, or maybe just years of weirdness soaking in. Locals say it's "red" for more than just the dirt, though. Wild stuff happens here. Dreams get up and walk around. Shadows have opinions. Time? Sometimes it decides to zigzag, just to mess with you. And if you hang around long enough, the walls start telling stories—whispers you can almost catch if you're paying attention.
Elara? She'd never been here before. Not once. Not until now.
The Whisper had flashed some cryptic image of Threnos Peak at her, but of course Virella had to get all mysterious and say, "Not yet. First, you need to grab something. A piece of the old melody. It's hiding in the Red Street."
So, here goes Elara, walking under the fading daylight, mark tucked away beneath her glove, heart pounding a little too loud for comfort. Virella trailing behind, quiet as ever, cloak rustling like a secret breeze.
Crossing into Red Street? Boom. Everything flips.
Lanterns flick on, no matches required. Voices bounce around from windows locked tight. The air's all wobbly, shimmery—like a mirage, except it's not even hot out. Elara feels it right away. Like, serious cosmic attention. Stars are eavesdropping, maybe.
They stop at this shop—doesn't even have a name. Blackest door you've ever seen. Windows don't show squat, not even your own face. Virella just gives her a look.
"In you go," she says.
So Elara goes.
Smells hit her first—old ink, soggy parchment, that whole ancient library vibe. Shelves stacked with stuff straight out of a fever dream. Crystals buzzing like bees, feathers floating midair, books mumbling to themselves as she walks by.
Way in the back: a mirror. But nope, not her usual reflection. Instead, she sees herself as a kid—tiny, under a field of stars, humming that lullaby her grandma used to sing. The song with no name.
"That's yours," Virella says, soft but kinda fierce. "That melody—your heart knows it. Time to bring it back."
Elara steps up to the mirror. Her palm glows through the glove—no hiding it now. Notes—actual little sparks of light—float up, gold and gentle, like the first stars at dusk.
Then the mirror cracks. Out comes a shard, shaped like a musical note, pure starlight. Elara grabs for it before she even thinks.
The second her fingers close, the shard melts into her skin. She staggers back, breath caught. The song—her song—bursts back, filling every inch of her.
And—oh. The memories. Turns out, her grandma was an Echoborne too. The song? Not just a lullaby. It was a seal. A shield meant to keep the Whisper safe from, well, whatever's out there in the dark.
Now, that job's hers.
Back on the street, something's different.
Stars are out again. And one—big, red, pulsing—just hangs there, smack over Red Street.
Virella glances up. "Looks like Threnos is calling."
Elara, still lit up from the inside, lets herself smile.
For once, she's not drifting.
She's chosen.
And the sky? Doesn't feel so scary anymore. Feels like it's waiting for her.