The voice told the story of Moorvale's founding. Each sculpture glowed in turn as their tale was spoken. I had heard these stories before. Every child in Moorvale knew them. But hearing them here, seeing the sculptures come to life with magic, felt different.

When Lacridon Everheart's sculpture began to glow, I felt a small surge of something. Pride, maybe. Or weight. My ancestor floating above the ground. Arcane sigils spiraling from one hand. Wild magic surging from the other. The stories always mentioned that chaos. That unpredictability. It ran in the family, they said.

The voice faded away. The glowing sculptures returned to their normal state. Lady Agnes spoke about Alton's project, but I barely registered her words.

Flurry was still staring. Even after we'd come all this way. Even after hearing the entire presentation. His gaze remained fixed on the ice sculpture. Unwavering.

I stepped closer to the frozen figures. I reached out and touched the cold surface. My fingers traced along the carved details of the founders.

[b]"Hey boy,"[/b] I said quietly. I looked down at Flurry. [b]"What is it? What's bothering you?"[/b]

The reanimated dog didn't move. Didn't shift his attention. Whatever had caught his interest, it still held him completely.