Magnus
I can't remember the last time I slept for more than half an hour. Every time my eyes close, it isn't out of choice—it's because my body finally gives in, too exhausted to resist any longer.
But I can't bear it either.
Sleep brings no relief. No peace. Only her face—always her face—and the unshakable truth of how I failed her.
Failed her again.
***
Magnus, six years old
Everything is on fire. Flames roar around me like wild, untamed beasts, their burning tongues licking the ceiling above.
I am terrified—petrified—yet I can't move. There's nowhere left to run. The entire palace is drowning in a relentless inferno of chaos and ruin.
I need to find her. I need to find the princess. That was my mother's command when the first war cries shattered the silence of the night, tearing the world into a before and after.
Those were her last words before the palace walls collapsed, and she vanished beneath the falling debris.
