Chapter 59: The Silence After Fire

The silence was heavier than the battle.

It pressed against the ruins of Duskwind like fog—thick, unmoving, soaked in the scent of ash and blood. The Veil’s light had vanished hours ago, but its echo still lingered, a faint shimmer across the treeline where the world had almost torn itself apart.

I sat among the wreckage, my hands still glowing faintly beneath the blood.

The mark on my wrist pulsed, slow but steady, like something half-asleep beneath my skin.

Riven knelt beside me, his breathing ragged. The silver in his eyes was gone, replaced by a storm-gray exhaustion that made him look almost human again.

"How long has it been?" I asked quietly.

He glanced toward the horizon. The sky was paling—the first hint of dawn trying to crawl past the smoke.

"Three hours since the Veil closed," he said. "Maybe four. Hard to tell. Time… doesn’t move right after something like that."

I nodded absently. The ground beneath us still vibrated, faintly, as if remembering the tremor of what had com