The Howling Throne
The world around them flickered, just for a moment, but long enough for them to see the truth.
Figures stood at the periphery of their vision, half-formed, their faces twisted in agony. Specters of the past, bound to this place by forces unknown. And then they moved.
Myrra barely had time to cry out before the wraiths descended upon them.
Swords met nothing but air as the apparitions slipped through their defenses, their touch like ice seeping into flesh. Bram swung wildly, his blade cleaving through one of the spirits, only for it to reform an instant later. Myrra raised her staff, chanting words of warding, but the specters shrieked in response, their howls filled with ancient sorrow.
Hot Chapters