Chapter 1: The Eclipse of Silver
The sky over Valerion did not turn black; it turned the color of a bruised vein.
Prince Kaelen stood on the balcony of the Spire, his fingers white-knuckled against the cold marble railing. Below, the city was screaming. Not the scream of a massacre, but the silent, rhythmic humming of ten thousand souls losing their memories at once.
"It's happening, isn't it?" a voice whispered behind him.
Kaelen didn't turn. He knew the scent of jasmine and burnt ozone anywhere. "The Oracle said the Great Seal would last a thousand years, Elara. It's only been six hundred."
Elara stepped beside him, her silver hair whipping in the unnatural wind. She was a Weaver, one of the few left who could see the threads of magic that bound their world together. Right now, those threads were snapping like dry parchment.
"The Oracle lied to keep the kingdoms from panicking," she said, her voice trembling. "The Void doesn't care about our calendars. It only cares about hunger."
Suddenly, the sun—the Golden Eye of Aetheria—was eclipsed. But it wasn't the moon that covered it. A massive, crystalline shard, miles long and jagged as a broken tooth, floated into the atmosphere. It pulsed with a rhythmic, violet light.