Syra stepped from the shade of a nearby pillar and held a condensed blade of darkness inches from Ethan's cheek.
"You ruined a continent," Syra whispered. "And now your kingdoms are dust."
Ethan scrambled backward and dragged his chained legs across the dirt. "Stay away! We are Heralds! We..." His voice trailed off as he looked around at the ruins of Tarnstead.
Syra grabbed Lucas by the collar and lifted him entirely off the ground.
"Aethelgard is a graveyard," Syra announced. "Tarnstead belongs to the Spiral. You have nowhere left to hide. The Sovereign remembers the void, and he remembers the twenty-eight cowards who sacrificed the twenty-ninth student to save themselves."
The blood drained from Lucas's face instantly. His mouth hung open as he stared at the assassin. Isabella stopped struggling and stared with wide, terrified eyes.
"Red," Isabella choked out. Her voice cracked. "No. We killed him. The Royal Mage tore his soul apart."
