SKYE'S POV
The aftermath of the tower’s destruction wasn't just a physical scar on the landscape; it was a psychic wound that bled into the very atmosphere of Nighthaven. As we stood on the precipice, the air itself felt brittle, charged with the kind of ozone-heavy tension that precedes a mountain storm. The silence that followed the shattering of the violet seal was absolute, save for the rhythmic, unsettling thrum of the mountain beneath our boots. It was a low-frequency vibration that seemed to match the erratic beating of my own heart, a reminder that the fortress was no longer just a stone structure—it was an extension of my own awakening power.
Eryx remained motionless beside me, his gaze fixed on the jagged abyss where the tower had once stood. The moonlight caught the sharp, ari
