The door groaned shut behind the last of them, and the echo lingered longer than it should have, as if the hall itself were reluctant to let the moment pass. Smoke from the torches drifted upward, staining the ceiling with fresh shadows that joined the old. Somewhere deep in the stone, water dripped at a steady pace, counting down toward consequences no one had dared to name aloud.
Beyond the walls, the city slept uneasily. Guards paced their routes, unaware that the lines they protected had already been crossed in spirit. In quiet chambers and guarded towers, those who still believed in order dreamed of tomorrows that no longer belonged to them. The gathering had not been large, nor loud, but it had been sufficient. History rarely required more.
