Chapter 59 Ashes And Oaths

The aftermath was eerily quiet. Where once the ground had cracked open beneath claw and flame, now there was only a battlefield filled with smoldering embers and silence. Lyra sat on a jagged stone, her arms wrapped around herself, the remnants of magic still tingling in her fingertips. Her hair was streaked with ash, her skin bruised, and the pendant—her mother’s final gift—was nothing more than dust scattered by the wind.