The town bells rang before noon.

  Aurora heard them from the eastern room.

  Three slow tolls.

  Each one spreading through the quiet house like a ripple through still water.

  Three days.

  The sound seemed deliberate, almost ceremonial, as if the town itself had decided to begin counting with her.

  Aurora closed the Binding Journal and rested her palm against the worn leather cover. She had spent most of the morning reading again, tracing the contradictions that filled the old pages.

  Every generation of Ashbourne had written something different.

  Different instructions.

  Different warnings.

  Different fears.

  Which meant one thing.

  None of them had truly understood the Binding.

  Aurora exhaled slowly and stood.

  She could not spend every hour buried in the journal.

  If the truth about the ritual existed anywhere outside those pages, it would be in the town itself.

  She stepped into the hallway.

  The house was unusually quiet.

  Her mother was likely resting. The last few days had drained her more than she admitted. Gideon had gone out earlier to repair the northern fence line, and Elara had taken over the kitchen.

  Only Darian remained.

  Aurora found him in the dining room, hunched over the old ledgers he had taken from the archives. Papers and brittle documents covered nearly the entire table.

  He looked up when she entered.

  “You look like someone who hasn’t slept.”

  Aurora leaned against the doorframe.

  “I slept.”

  “Barely.”

  She shrugged slightly.

  “Find anything useful?”

  Darian rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Depends on what you consider useful.”

  He slid one of the ledgers toward her.

  Aurora skimmed the faded entries.

  Names.

  Dates.

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  Records of Bindings stretching back generations.

  But something about the pattern caught her attention.

  “The years are inconsistent,” she said.

  Darian nodded.

  “That’s what I noticed too.”

  Aurora traced the dates again.

  Sometimes the Binding occurred after ten years.

  Sometimes fifteen.

  Once it had happened only six years after the previous ritual.

  “The council always said the Binding followed a strict cycle,” Aurora murmured.

  “Apparently not.”

  Aurora closed the ledger.

  “That means the ritual happens when the Veil weakens.”

  “Exactly.”

  Darian leaned back in his chair.

  “And no one outside the council seems to know how they determine that.”

  Aurora glanced toward the front door.

  “I’m going into town.”

  Darian raised an eyebrow.

  “To do what?”

  “To see how people are reacting.”

  He gave a short laugh.

  “You mean how they’re reacting to you becoming their sacrificial guardian?”

  Aurora met his gaze calmly.

  “Something like that.”

  Darian stood.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No.”

  He frowned.

  “You shouldn’t walk through town alone right now.”

  Aurora shook her head.

  “That’s exactly why I should.”

  Before he could argue further, she slipped on her coat and stepped outside.

  The air carried the scent of rain.

  The town sat in the shallow valley beneath the northern ridge, its narrow streets winding between old stone buildings that had stood for generations.

  Aurora had walked these streets her entire childhood.

  But today felt different.

  Word had already spread.

  She saw it in the way people reacted when she passed.

  A woman sweeping her porch stopped and lowered her broom.

  Two children playing near the well fell silent as Aurora walked by.

  One of them whispered something to the other.

  Aurora caught a single word.

  “Veil.”

  She continued walking.

  The town square opened before her.

  The market stalls were quieter than usual, though a few merchants still called out their wares.

  But conversations hushed when she passed.

  Eyes followed her.

  Some curious.

  Some respectful.

  Some filled with something close to relief.

  Aurora stopped near the old fountain at the center of the square.

  The stone basin had cracked years ago, but water still flowed slowly from the carved lion’s mouth.

  She rested her hands on the cool stone edge.

  “Three days,” a voice said behind her.

  Aurora turned.

  An elderly man stood beside one of the market stalls. His coat was worn thin, and his white beard hung almost to his chest.

  She recognized him after a moment.

  Jonas Vale.

  One of the oldest residents in town.

  “You’re counting too?” Aurora asked.

  He smiled faintly.

  “Everyone is.”

  He approached the fountain slowly.

  “You look calmer than your mother did when it was her turn.”

  Aurora tilted her head slightly.

  “You remember that?”

  “I remember every Binding since I was a boy.”

  He studied her carefully.

  “Most people hide indoors during the last days.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  Jonas chuckled softly.

  “No. I suppose you’re not.”

  Aurora gestured toward the town around them.

  “Do they think I’m saving them?”

  The old man looked around the square.

  “Some do.”

  “And the others?”

  “They think you’re being punished.”

  Aurora folded her arms.

  “For what?”

  Jonas shrugged.

  “People in small towns always believe someone must suffer for the peace they enjoy.”

  Aurora absorbed that quietly.

  “And what do you believe?”

  The old man’s eyes drifted toward the northern forest beyond the rooftops.

  “I believe the Veil has been there longer than any of us understand.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “No,” he agreed.

  “But it’s the truth.”

  Aurora leaned closer.

  “Tell me something honestly.”

  Jonas nodded.

  “Have you ever seen anything from beyond the Veil?”

  The old man’s expression shifted slightly.

  Not fear.

  Something older.

  Memory.

  “Once,” he said quietly.

  Aurora felt her pulse tighten.

  “What did you see?”

  Jonas’s gaze remained fixed on the distant forest.

  “Nothing.”

  Aurora frowned.

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “That’s exactly why it frightened me.”

  He looked back at her.

  “The forest was empty.”

  Aurora waited.

  “And?” she asked.

  “And it shouldn’t have been.”

  A chill crept along Aurora’s spine.

  Jonas stepped back from the fountain.

  “You should go home before dark,” he said.

  Aurora watched him walk away.

  His words echoed strangely in her mind.

  The forest was empty.

  Aurora turned slowly toward the northern ridge.

  From the town square, the treeline looked darker than usual.

  Still.

  Silent.

  Watching.

  For the first time in days, Aurora felt something new stirring beneath her calm.

  Not panic.

  Not dread.

  Curiosity.

  Because if the Veil protected the town—

  Then why did it feel like something beyond the forest was patiently waiting for her?

  Three days remained before the Binding.