Aria*
The world started bleeding at the edges.
Not all at once.
Little cuts.
The kind you could almost ignore if you didn’t know what to look for.
The first morning after Kade’s warning in my dreams, I stepped out into the courtyard and nearly slipped.
The flagstones were slick with dew, the usual silver beads catching the weak light.
Except some of them weren’t silver.
Thin streaks of red ran through the moisture, faint but unmistakable—like someone had dragged a blood‑dipped finger across the stone and then let the dew soften it.
I crouched, heart ticking faster, and touched one.
It smeared under my fingertip, staining my skin a pale crimson.
Not bright enough to be fresh.
It's not dark enough to be old.
Just… wrong.
Rhea, coming out of the training hall, saw me and stopped
