The moon bled red for three nights.
No wind stirred. No birds sang. Even the wolves, proud creatures of instinct and blood, kept to their dens in silence.
Elizabeth stood in the palace observatory, Solbrand clutched in her hand. Its golden glow now flickered uneasily, as if sensing the tremors crawling through the threads of the world. The air felt… thin, like standing on the edge of some unseen cliff.
She had known the Forgotten God wouldn’t be the end.
But she hadn’t expected it to come so soon.
Lucian entered quietly. His usually sure steps faltered. “The southern scouts haven’t returned.”
Elizabeth turned to him, eyes shadowed with thought. “That’s three patrols lost in two days.”
“Whatever is out there… it’s not rogues. They vanish without a trace. No blood. No signs of struggl
