Sleep refused to come that night. Every time I closed my eyes, the vision I had in the sanctuary replayed in my mind—the moment the sorcerers fell, the warning they left behind, and the dark force that loomed ever closer. My body was exhausted, but my mind was wide awake, racing with thoughts of what I had seen and what it meant for us.
The whispers in the sanctuary were growing louder too. Faint, almost like the wind, yet with a cadence that suggested speech. They wound through the crumbling corridors, touching my ears but never clear enough to understand. Was it just the remnants of old magic, echoes of those who once lived here? Or something more? I wasn't sure, but it kept me on edge. Every creak of the stone, every whisper felt like a warning. I turned on my side, hoping to find a sliver of comfort in the cold stone floor beneath my bedroll, but it was useless.
