For the first time in years, the world was quiet but not in peace. It was the silence that comes after something sacred has been broken. The kind that clings to the skin, heavy and suffocating, refusing to let go.
The Duskbane Kingdom was gone.
What once stood as a citadel of light and divinity now lay in ruins, swallowed by its own dying godfire. The marble towers had fallen, the rivers ran red with ash, and the air still shimmered faintly with remnants of divine energy. Even the sun seemed to mourn it, casting long, dim rays across the battlefield that still smelled of blood and burnt wings.
And yet, against all reason, he survived.
Adrian.
I stood on the scorched plains, my armor half-broken, my blade dragging at my side. Every muscle in my body screamed, every heartbeat echoed with the remnants of the fusion that had bound our souls. I could still feel him, his thoughts like whispers brushing the edge of my mind, his heartbeat like an echo under my own.
