The sky cracked open above Valedor, and I tore my memory from my chest like a wound that would never stop bleeding.
Ash fell like snow, cloaking the dead. Magic scorched the horizon, a white fire burning too bright to bear. Screams twisted through the wind-some still living, most not.
And in the center of it all, bleeding out in my arms, was Kael Arren, commander of the Oathbearers and the only friend I had left.
His armor was shattered. His breath came shallow. His hands trembled as they clutched a blood-soaked letter. "Take it," he rasped. "Find her."
I didn't want the letter. I didn't want this moment. But war doesn't ask what you want
I took it.
"She's… she's only a girl," Kael said. "The last of House Arren. They'll come for her. They'll silence the bloodline for good."
"And what do you want me to do?" I asked, even though I already knew. Even though I felt the familiar pull of old, forbidden magic curling in my ribs like a blade waiting to be drawn.
