YLVARON: The Veiled Sangraíz

Some names hide. Others wait to be remembered.
In Liorna, a village that lives beneath the fog, the sisters Siraen and Evaira Elvarn know their family is keeping a secret: they are called Elvarn, but they have not always been known by that name.
When impossible rain awakens something dormant in their blood, the fog ceases to be merely fog, and their house ceases to be a refuge. The Septary—the apparatus that measures, names, and archives all that exists—has begun asking about them.
Fleeing will carry them far beyond anything they could imagine: beneath Beljar, a city that does not hide because it has no need to, into a world no one in Liorna knew existed. There, every object they carry—a bent spoon, a brass button, a board on which their father recorded their height year after year—begins to weigh more than it should.
Because somewhere in that descent waits a name their mother never speaks aloud: Liora.
And someone in Beljar has learned to read exactly what a family is trying to hide.