Valeria hit the frozen ground sliding. The silver grass was already turning brittle and sharp beneath her leather boots. The ambient temperature of the valley was in absolute freefall. The starless night outside the golden dome had resumed its aggressive, starving assault the exact second Lucian's light failed. She ignored the biting wind and dropped to her knees beside the broken body of the Solar Phoenix.
The physical devastation was horrifying.
Lucian lay on his side in the dirt. His magnificent left wing was completely gone. It had not been torn off; it had fully calcified into a solid, heavy block of grey stone that had shattered into large, jagged chunks upon impact. His right wing was a withered, twisted husk of brittle ash. The magical rot was actively creeping up his shoulder, turning his pale, flawless skin into a dull, lifeless grey canvas.
