The dawn broke with a whisper, casting pale golden light across the battlements of Stormveil. But within the citadel, tension was a coiled serpent.
Aria stood alone in the inner courtyard, her hands curled into fists, her breath shallow. She hadn’t slept. The visions from the Moonfire ceremony lingered in her mind—Kael's bloodied hands, the Hollow King rising, and the echo of a betrayal she couldn’t yet name.
Kael approached from the far archway. His eyes were darker, shadowed with unspoken truths.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said quietly.
She turned slowly. “You haven’t given me much reason not to.”
He winced, visibly. “Aria, I never meant to keep anything from you. The prophecy—”
“The prophecy says I will be the one to end him. Or die trying.” Her voice was bitter. “You knew. And
