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Another night in the dungeons.

At this point, I couldn’t fathom how that girl Giesel had survived a year down here. My body ached, my flame hadn’t stirred in days, and my mind felt wrung out.

When Rok gestured for volunteers again, I almost stepped forward, just to disappear for a few days. But with a lindworm recently found, every guard seemed ready to take a fist to the jaw just for the chance to escort it to the Serpent Academy.

Distant chants of combat echoed through the halls. My fingers were so numb I could barely grip the sponge. Then someone brushed my shoulder. I turned to find the humming girl. Giesel.

“You must fight,” she said gently. “Once you’re here… it gets harder to leave.” Her eyes were bright, star-scattered things.

My throat tightened. “I’m exhausted,” I whispered, pressing my sleeve to my face.

“Then push through it,” she murmured. “I sing to stay grounded.”

“I’m Severyn,” I said quietly. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself.”

“I know who you are.” Her voice was soft. “You’re the golden one’s sister. ”

I didn’t ask what she thought of him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “How did you survive a year down here?”

“I sing,” she said again. “I could sing you a song of my fallen people.”

I remembered her humming that first night, it had to be a quell of some sort. I nodded. “Please.”

She tilted her head, as if waiting for the wind to carry her the melody, but no wind moved in this cold-stone place. Her fingers tapped a slow, familiar rhythm against the floor.

Then she sang.

The sound started soft. But then it rose—clear as glass, sharp as grief. Her voice climbed higher, purer, until it lifted like wings from a cage, threaded with something older than language.

When the final note faded, I stared in stunned silence. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “That’s your quell, isn’t it?”

Giesel leaned back, wiping sweat from her brow. “I can’t fight. But I can sing. I’ll never escape here, Severyn.”

My grandfather ruled this fractured kingdom. My brother had lived by these rules. And me? I wasn’t just meant to endure this place. I was meant to end it.

“Sing,” I told her. “Sing loud. Don’t let them steal your voice.”

She coughed, pulling her knees to her chest. “The songbirds told me to tell you something. I didn’t go hopeless the other day when I fought the ice-wielder. I needed the light. The wind, to hear them.”

“Songbirds?”

She blinked slowly. “Don’t let your flame burn out. A bird too weak to carry a soldier, but strong enough to carry the wind and the voices within, is dangerous. You are not safe here, Severyn. You are a prisoner.”

“Giesel,” I whispered, leaning in. “I don’t understand. ”

“The wind… it whispered your name. That’s why I fought against the ice-wielder. I had to hear it clearer.”

“Whose voice was it?”

She dipped her rag back into the bucket again. “You missed a spot,” she said casually.

“Giesel.” My voice cracked. “What message?”

“If the guards see us talking,” she whispered, still not looking up, “they’ll punish us. I can’t risk hearing them again for you.”

I looked around. The silence was too still. It wasn’t just stone pressing in. “It’s a ward,” I said slowly, the truth blooming like fire in my chest. “This whole dungeon—it’s a ward.”

“My voice calms them,” she said. “The guards. The wind soothes when I sing. That’s why they keep me here. I can hear the secrets in the air. Someone is looking for you… I told them you were safe.”

“Who?”

She paused. “Maybe they keep you here to keep you silent. To keep you weak. Someone with wind in their blood was trying to find you. I don’t know who, but ever since you arrived, the wind has been restless.”

The words settled deep, unsettling something I hadn’t realized was stirring. Could it be Malachi? Oceans away, calling through the veil of wind?

“Where do the songbirds come from?” I asked.

“The Realm of Day,” she said softly. “There were once three bright realms. Two fell. My land was one of them.” Her voice thinned to a thread. “The Garcias took our light. Said our voice power was useless.”

She didn’t sound bitter, only tired. “But I don’t believe them.” Her fingers, trembling, reached toward the sliver of light beneath the door. “I can hear the wind… but not down here.” A ragged breath slipped from her lungs. “It’s always just out of reach. ”

I looked at my relic. “Can someone hear through flame?”

“Perhaps someone with inherited power. But you must wield it. Fire is pain, Severyn. To tame it, you must understand where it comes from.”

“My brother,” I said softly.

“Inherited powers carry memory,” she whispered. “Find it, and you could become unstoppable.”

I needed out. I needed Giesel out. And maybe I needed this place to knock some godsdamned fire back into me.