The night smelled of rain and iron. Emberhelm stood braced against a storm not only in the sky, but at its very heart. Strangers came from the ridge disciplined, relentless, and marked by a shadow of Rome. Wolves bled on the bridge, dragons vanished into the tempest, and the sacred thirteenth stone cracked down its face. In the silence after battle, a child was found safe… but marked. And from the shadows, betrayal spoke with a voice far too close to home.