The Eclipse Secret Child
I raised my hand, and the black silk-shadows didn't attack, they reached, they touched the Warlord’s scarred chest, the Solar Priest’s throat, and the Seer’s silk-bound eyes, it wasn't a strike, it was a connection.
For a heartbeat, they saw what I saw; the three thrones in the dream, the crumbling ivory of the Sun, the stagnant onyx of the Shadow, and the middle throne of smoke that was the only thing keeping the world from falling into the Abyssal Grave.
The Warlord fell to his knees, the Seer gasped, clutching her heart, the Solar Priest’s golden staff shattered in his hand.
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