The blue footprints lead Sil’Thalis and Bren down into a vaulted settlement beneath the well. Arched streets, lantern niches, and close-set doors hold the quiet of refuge.
Living Dunmire residents watch from their thresholds: tired adults in plain work clothes, an elderly woman with a white braid, and children kept safely behind the doorways.
the Dunmire elder
Witness accepted. Questions will pass. Commands will not.
The ward answers as she speaks. Imperative words flatten into harmless silence, while her statement and the surrounding whispers remain clear enough to understand.
Bren
They are waiting for an account, not rescue by decree. We should let them describe what happened before we decide what it means.
More residents gather beneath the vaulted beams without crossing the open space. Their lanterns reveal sealed baskets, packed bundles, and a covered bell-rope descending from above.
the Dunmire elder
The warning came through the well. We left the surface together, but what followed us did not leave us alone.