Ashreign revealed itself through a crack in the mist, an ancient city sprawled atop a thousand bridges and weathered spires. The bells in its towers never rang — not from disuse, but from grief so deep it had curdled into silence.
Cassiel adjusted the strap of her leather satchel, tilting her head to take it all in."So, this is the famous Ashreign," she said, voice dry. "Smells like bad poetry and old sins."
Mirae tugged her coat tighter against the wet chill. Her breath puffed out in front of her in little clouds. "And damp socks," she added mournfully.
Ahead of them, Bastion was already stomping forward, each step ringing hollow on the slick bridge stones."Focus," he growled. "We find the archive. Get the maps. Leave."
Elior lingered near the edge, staring down into the grey abyss beneath the bridges. His long coat fluttered like a crow's wing."Or," he suggested lightly, "we accidentally join one of the roving cults, get cursed by the Warden Priests, and spend the rest of our lives ringing invisible bells."
Mirae sighed. "Why do you sound like you want that?"
Cassiel smirked but kept walking. They'd been warned — Ashreign was a city where intentions went to die, buried beneath endless ceremonies no one quite remembered how to perform.
Their goal was simple:Retrieve an ancient witness registry hidden in the "Reliquary of Silent Names" — a building that supposedly moved each time you blinked.
Simple. Right.
As they crossed the first of many bridges, the city revealed its layers. Bridges stacked on bridges. Houses fused into cathedrals. Narrow alleys wove upward like veins. Statues wept water from eyeless sockets. Somewhere deeper in the city, something mechanical clicked, as if unseen gears still turned in the bowels of Ashreign.
Cassiel stopped at a crooked signpost:
"LEFT — the Choir That Hung Itself.RIGHT — the Clock That Devours Hours.STRAIGHT — Nowhere Worth Going."
"Comforting," Mirae muttered.
Cassiel flashed a grin. "Left it is."
They moved quickly, cloaks pulled tight against the cold drizzle.Passing ragged merchant stalls where relics whispered if you leaned too close.Past a bridge carved entirely of fossilized bones, where children laughed from hollow skulls.Through a plaza where ravens nested in the broken ribs of a forgotten giant.
Each step pulled them deeper.
Each shadow leaned closer.
And somewhere beneath the surface — beneath even the stone and bone — something waited.
Listening.
Smiling.