Nyra's POVAs I turned another delicate leaf, being cautious not to fracture the spine or dirty the ink, dust crinkled through the lantern light. The paper in front of me was filled with overlapping runes that circled inward until they met at a spiral mark in the middle, resembling the rings of a tree.That spiral again.I traced it with my finger, the tip of it pulsing faintly, like it remembered the same kind of magic we'd felt during the eclipse. The sensation sent a familiar chill up my arm, not unpleasant, but unsettling. Like touching something that was both ancient and alive.As the afternoon drew on, the temperature in the chamber surrounding us had dropped. The weight of centuries has now weighed down the stone walls that had appeared to be only ancient when we had first arrived. Every fracture in the masonry appeared to be a secret waiting to be revealed, and every shadow seemed to contain whispering. In addition to the taste of old parchment, the air itself had a strong, m
Nyra's POVThe meeting room was colder than usual.Maybe it was just me, still carrying the aftershocks of the red eclipse and the way it poisoned the land beneath our feet. Or maybe it was the way every person in the room wore tension, like an extra layer of clothing, silent, grim, and waiting for orders.Draven stood at the head of the table, arms crossed over his chest, face shadowed with exhaustion. Still, his voice was steady.“We were attacked,” he began simply. “Not in our body, but in balance. And that is worse. It means someone is thinking long-term. Someone understands our connection to this land and is trying to sever it.”He paused and looked at each of us, the council elders, patrol leads, the healers, and me.“So we split our focus. One group investigates the magic: source, intent, patterns. The other group reinforces the land. Rituals, balance restoration, anything we can do to stop further decay.”No one questioned him. Not today. Not after what we’d seen.Draven turne
Nyra's POVZaira.We'd never encountered her directly. Not yet. But her name had come up again and again over the past months, a thread running cold through every warning we'd received from allies and enemies alike. Her interest in Auren, spoken of in whispers and worried glances. Her influence spread through old bloodlines like poison through veins. Her silence was loud, her absence too convenient to be accidental.Still, we couldn't assume. Not when we had three enemies circling like vultures, each capable of horrors we were only beginning to understand."This could be any of them," I said finally, the words heavy with the weight of uncertainty."Or worse, something new."Draven's voice was low, cautious. He stepped forward, his movements careful and deliberate, crouching beside a small pond that had been crystal clear when we'd passed it that afternoon. Now it looked like a liquid shadow, reflecting nothing. He dipped his fingers into the water and flinched, pulling his hand back w
Nyra's POVThe moon bled. That was the first thing I noticed when I stepped out onto the balcony late that night.A cold wind moved through my hair, holding a strange smell, something metallic, old, and almost bitter.Like wet copper coins mixed with the scent of leaves that had started to rot. I looked up, glancing at the sky in the growing darkness.The moon, usually full and bright, now hung under a strange shadow. A deep rusty red glow wrapped around it like an open wound, pulsing with a rhythm that did not feel natural.My heartbeat picked up. It looked like a lunar eclipse, but it did not feel right. Not like the ones from the books with their diagrams and timing.Not like the ones people talk about in stories, calling them rare and beautiful. This felt different.The air itself felt heavier, like it was pressing down on my skin.I felt it in my bones, a kind of wrongness that was more than what I could see or smell.It was like the world had paused and was holding its breath.D
Nyra's POVThe night was quiet.Not peaceful, just quiet. The kind of quiet that thrummed low and awake beneath your skin. The stars shone drowsily overhead and a chill had crawled into the air, slipping past my armor, curling into my bones.I stood on the balcony, arms folded, looking out at the faraway hills where the last streak of light was consumed by the horizon. The courtyard below was quiet. Everyone slept or feigned sleep. The night guards made their deliberate rounds, their footsteps softened by the dense stone. An owl hooted somewhere in the darkness, a sad hooting that sounded as though it came from my own restlessness.But my thoughts would not be still.Not after the way he had looked at me. Not after the timbre of his voice when he had spoken the words, when all the others had faded away, and we were left there alone in the golden light of dying torches.You are not alone anymore.The words circled in my mind, quiet but persistent, like the wearing away of stone by wat
Nyra's POVThe courtyard remained, in hues of ash and gold. The sun was not so much gone, but drawing close, extending shadows, folding light quietly into crevices. I stood with my back against the stone railing, gazing out over the hills of the west as the clouds crept like weary soldiers returning from war. The ancient stone in my hands retained the heat of the day, rough and pitted from rain, wind and war through the centuries.It was the first time I had anything close to peace in days. Weeks, maybe. Time had lost its direction, each sunrise bleeding into evening without option.I wrapped my arms around my waist, not because I felt cold but because I needed to find some reassurance that something was holding me together. The tunic caught on the calluses of my palms, palms that had gripped swords, drawn maps and buried friends.Everything was falling back into place. The wind, the ground, the individuals. Auren was changing into another person, shedding his previous self like a sn