"The stars record every oath, but it is love, terrible and true, that decides which ones endure."
3RD PERSON POV
The Great Library of the Northern Keep was an empire of silence. Its ancient vaults, carved from the mountain's heart, breathed the slow, patient rhythm of things that had witnessed centuries. Pillars of white stone stretched upward into a darkness alive with dust and whispers. Gold-threaded sigils shimmered faintly across the walls, the ghosts of wards long forgotten. Every corridor hummed with the residue of the countless minds that had passed through, each one leaving behind a trace of longing, curiosity, or despair.
