Watcher Keep

Evelyn's hand lingered on the crumbling stone, her fingers tracing grooves left by centuries of wind and rain. The ancient stones of Watcher's Keep held the weight of untold secrets, and she felt as though the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting to speak. The air was thick with the scent of moss and cold iron, a sharp contrast to the biting winds outside the fortress.

She glanced back at her brother, Alistair, who stood at the threshold, studying the abandoned hall with wary eyes. He had been hesitant to come, yet now they had little choice. Stories of the Watcher—a mysterious entity said to guard the secrets of time and fate—had drawn them here, but it was the mystery of their family's past that pushed them forward.

"It feels…alive," Alistair muttered, crossing the threshold into the keep. "As if it's watching us."