Chapter 41: The Light That Trembles
The dawn stretched across the valley like a wound slowly healing.
Golden light spilt through the canopy, bathing the survivors of the Black Spire in warmth they hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. Yet beneath that light, unease lingered — an unspoken understanding that something in the balance of the world had shifted.
Eryndor stood silently at the edge of the sanctuary, the morning breeze stirring his cloak. His reflection shimmered faintly in the pool of water before him — and for a fleeting moment, the reflection blinked differently than he did.
He frowned and looked away.
Behind him, Lyra approached, her footsteps light but her presence steady. “You haven’t said a word since sunrise,” she said softly. “You barely touched your food.”
Eryndor m
