Third person POV:
A year had passed since the eclipse consumed itself in the sky over Elyndor.
The earth, which had been shattered and burn down, had started to recover once more. Grass sprouted in the smoldering fields, rivers ran clear, and the huge bell of Castle Duskbane tolled not for war but for harvest. Children played in streets that had previously run with the sound of marching feet. The world healed.
But behind the castle's top doors, silence still held.
The room of the dead heir was warm and lit, its high windows open to the sun. Fresh flowers perched on each sill—Crisha would see to it—and their fragrance blended with the very slight metallic tang of ancient magic. On the bed in the middle lay Lincoln Lewis.
He looks like he was just sleeping.
His face was serene, his hai
