POV: Arken
The darkness rippled.
That alone was enough to wake him.
Deep within the black cathedral of bone and shadow, Arken opened his eyes.
Silver light* through the void like a wound.
He rose slowly from his throne of petrified remains, power sliding through his veins as the ancient wards screamed in protest. The air trembled. The shadows fled from him instinctively.
He felt it.
The blood-gate.
Open.
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
“So…” he murmured. “The Moon finally dares to move her pieces.”
The tremor echoed again—stronger this time—racing through the ley lines of the world like wildfire. Not just awakened power.
Legacy power.
New blood.
Unclaimed.
Unprotected.
Arken lifted his hand and the darkness obeyed, swirling into a living map of glowing veins and sh
