The orange hues on the western horizon were slowly swallowed by the pitch-black night. The freezing chill began to creep in, blanketing the back gardens of the Iron Hearth Castle.
Click... click... click...
A row of wolf-carved stone lamps ignited in perfect unison. Their golden-yellow glow banished the dark shadows that had been hiding beneath the manicured lawns.
In the quietest corner, far from the noisy barracks and the airfield, a single Snow Seruni tree stood like a silent sentinel.
Rianor Sudrath sat leaning against the stone bench beneath it.
Beside him, Elara sat calmly in her modified Arcanotech wheelchair. A thick cloak was draped over her fragile shoulders. Her rare purple eyes—which no longer held even a single drop of magic energy—stared straight at the blooming Seruni flowers. There was a mute warmth in her gaze.
