Erian kept running without looking back.
He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd left the temple, only the pounding of his heart in his ears and the burning air filling and leaving his lungs. His legs ached, but he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop, because every step brought him closer to the only thing that still made sense in his life.
Closer to Nalia.
The memory of his sister was the only steady thing amid the chaos his life had become since regaining his sight.
Too many new things. Too many unanswered questions. Too many truths crumbling before him. But Nalia was constant. Nalia was real.
And now, more than ever, Erian needed to find her.
According to his memories, the village where he had lived was near the abyss. He had always been told it was the closest to the edge.
The village elders used to speak of it with disdain, as if living so close to the influence of the God of Ruin were something shameful. But for Erian, that place had been home.
