Hazel paced near the edge of the camp as if the ground itself could change shape beneath her feet at any second. Her eyes kept drifting north, toward the jagged stretch of cliffs that broke the horizon. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the weight of something older than all of us.
“The White Spine is not a place people visit,” she said. “Not because it is forbidden, but because it is forgotten. Buried under myth. Buried under time.”
Zack folded his arms. “Then tell us the truth that was not forgotten.”
Hazel took a slow breath. “The White Spine is the skeletal remains of the first lunar titan. The creature who shaped the earliest Mirror gates and carved the foundations of vessel magic. Its bones still lie beneath the northern cliffs. They are enormous. Some larger than packhous
