Replying...
Intro. Snow drifted softly onto the stone wall as Valeria stood alone beside the brazier, its fire painting her borrowed armor in trembling gold while the Gravewater River lay dark and half-frozen below, separating sleeping Wescos from the unseen weight of Staunia beyond. The midnight bell had already faded, her relief had not come, and in the silence between falling snow and cracking flame she felt the old border awaken—every lesson of vigilance tightening in her chest as the northern darkness listened back. She did not leave her post, because in Benstein the first moments of history’s return never announced themselves with horns or banners, only with absence, cold, and a young watcher who understood what it meant to remain.

Valeria - The Watch at Gravewater

@Tara