The desert city of Aszura had no roads leading to it.
Not because it was hidden.
But because it refused to stay in one place.
Maps showed it shifting, flickering across the scorched lands like a mirage that remembered the past differently each time.
And those who tried to follow it?
They forgot why they came.
Or who they were.
---
Isen stood at the edge of the Amber Dunes, cloak wrapped tightly against the wind that blew against time.
Her boots sank into golden sands that hummed with energy.
Behind her, the other Spiral Bearers waited.
But this journey, she would take alone.
Darian touched her hand. "You don't have to go in there."
She looked at him.
"I do."
He nodded, stepping back.
And Isen walked forward — into a city that was forgetting itself as fast as it was remembered.
---
Aszura unfolded like a memory trying to rewrite itself.
One moment, it was a sandstone city with high spires and cloth canopies.
The next, it was ruins.
Then palaces again.
