Chapter 59 — The Choice That Remain
The Hollowing did not rage.
It refined.
That was the first thing Kael noticed.
He stood at the edge of the northern quarter at dawn, boots dusted with frost, watching a city that looked at first glance whole. Smoke rose from chimneys in clean vertical threads. Vendors unfolded tables with practiced efficiency. Bells rang for morning shifts with perfect timing, not a beat early or late. Doors opened. People stepped out. No one lingered in thresholds.
The rhythm was flawless.
And wrong.
The air felt thinner not empty, but selective, like a room where unnecessary furniture had been removed until only straight-backed chairs remained. Breathable. Usable. Unwelcoming.
"It's pruning," Kael murmured.
Beside him, Ryn adjusted his gloves and scanned the street. "Pruning what?"
