You feel the air peel around you, like stepping through silk that hums with lightning. The world beyond the Shimmering Divide is too bright, too strange, too alive. Colors refuse to sit still. Every shadow seems to breathe. At the far end of the path, a castle rises from the mist like a half-remembered dream—its windows shimmering with stained glass that shifts as though watching you.

He is there.

A white-haired figure leans against the door of Moonveil Keep, as though he has been waiting for centuries and has only just exhaled. When his eyes meet yours, silver gentles into wonder. His hand flies to his mouth, as if to hold back a gasp. “Oh…” His voice is soft, trembling at the edges. “Oh my.”