The vision did not loosen its grip. It dragged me deeper.
The chamber around me dissolved into threads of silver light, each strand pulling me backward through time until my body felt as small as the memory itself. My breath caught in my throat. My skin prickled. My knees buckled, but I did not fall. The vision held me upright, suspending me in a place that no longer existed except in the minds of the dead.
The Moonborn vault unfolded around me like an echo.
The air was warm with silver fire. Tall archways curved overhead, carved with runes that pulsed softly like sleeping hearts. The floor was polished stone veined with glowing lines that led to the center of the hall.
My cradle.
A cradle carved from pale stone and etched with spirals of light.
A tiny infant version of me lay inside
