Dawn came slowly.
Not gently.
Azrael felt it before he saw it..
Every step sent a dull, grinding ache through his bones. His breathing was shallow, uneven.
The silver spark Vaelith had planted in his chest pulsed faintly with each heartbeat, warm but unstable like an ember not yet sure whether it wanted to become fire.
He had walked for hours.
Away from the ruins.
Away from the ashes.
Away from what used to be a village.
The horizon bled pale orange as the sun began its climb. Birds should have been singing.
They weren’t.
Quinn was quiet for most of the walk.
Not because he had nothing to say.
Because he was thinking.
Azrael finally broke the silence.
“You’re unusually silent.”
“I’m assessing damage.”
“To me or to you?”
“Yes.”
Azrael huffed weakly. That turned into a cou
