Nyxar POVThe wind whispered through the crumbling bones of the temple, stirring dust and leaves like forgotten prayers. Shadows clung to the corners of the broken sanctuary, quiet and still, as if holding their breath.Nyxar sat on the edge of the old altar, elbows resting on his knees, eyes cast toward the open ceiling where a single shaft of sunlight pierced through the cracked stone above. Lyra was nearby - silent, present. She didn’t fill the space with questions or noise. She simply was. Her stillness steadied him more than she likely realized.He drew a breath, deep and grounding. The scent of old stone, ash, and moss filled his lungs.This place had once been sacred. Once, his kind had come here to speak to the Moon. To pray. To transform. The divine had moved in these walls.Now it was dust and ruin.Like him.He tilted his head back, eyes slipping closed. The mark along his forearm - once the seal of his divinity - was dull now. No longer a flare of power. No longer a curse
Last Updated : 2025-05-08 Read more