The violet light that lanced across the southern horizon was not the soft,
ethereal glow of a Hallowed dawn or the shimmering iridescence of the Mirror
Moon. It was a harsh, jagged streak of artificial brilliance—a flare of
weaponized desperation. It hung in the sky for a long, agonizing minute, casting
long, distorted shadows of the obsidian spires across the newly settled village.
The celebration in the courtyard died a sudden, cold death. The laughter of the
"unbound" wolves, which had felt like the first true music of the new Republic,
was replaced by a silence so heavy it felt like the return of the Void.
I stood on the balcony, my hand gripping the cold stone until my knuckles turned
as white as the snow beginning to fall. Aidan was heavy in his sling, his small
heart beating a rapid, rhythmic thump-thud against my chest. He was awake now,
his gold and black eyes reflecting the violet streak with a terrifying, ancient
