The Tidebreaker slowed as it approached the Driftmaiden, the wreck’s skeletal frame looming through the fog like a forgotten monument. Its hull was splintered, draped in glowing blue vines that pulsed in time with the ship’s mast—a beacon that matched the whisper in Echo’s skull: “Find the Lost Name.” The voices were a cacophony now, pleading, screaming, guiding them closer. Echo stood at the bow, their leg still aching from the wraith’s touch, but the pull was stronger than the pain. Answers were here—they could feel it.


    <div>