Third Person
The rain hadn't completely stopped, but then something had. Two heartbeats had gone quiet under the cover of darkness, in the view of the hidden moon that refused to shine, tucked away behind dark clouds. Outside, the atmosphere was quiet. Everyone feared to utter a word, as if it meant confirmation.
Inside the packhouse, hidden from the eyes of all, Caelan lay still.... his body fallen, his breath cut. There was no movement, not even a single beat. Seconds ticked.
1…
2…
3…
4…
Nothing.
Atam's hands trembled as he reached forward, his voice vibrating. "Yo… your highness…" he whispered, but no answer, no movement.
But he wasn't the only one who could barely make out words. Behind him were Captain Caleb and Malov.... the only two who had mastered the courage to inch closer.
"My… my prince…" Malov cried, his voice echoing through the night, deep and painful like a wounded wolf.
