The moon was still trembling from the storm that had torn open the heavens. Beneath its waning light, Catherine soared — her four wings catching the chill air like blades of gold and silver.
Her scales still glimmered faintly with residual mana, though her body trembled from exhaustion. Aiden sat behind her, his arms steady around her waist, feeling the fever of battle still in her breath.
Below them, the land rolled by like the skin of some sleeping giant — forests shrouded in ash, rivers reflecting dying stars, the horizon veiled by the lingering smoke of a war not yet named.
It had been only hours since the abomination vanished — drawn back into the dungeon by whatever force Aiden had summoned through half-truth and sacrifice. Yet in those hours, the world had shifted. Something in the balance between man and monster, between noble and slayers, had cracked — invisible, but deep.
Catherine's wings faltered once, then steadied again.
