Dawn came quiet and clear, the sky streaked with pale gold over the Shadow Kingdom's obsidian skyline. Fog clung to the lower streets, curling around rune-lit pillars and the polished edges of the palace like ghostly silk. Yet there was a stillness in the air—not of dread, but of pause. Like the world was holding its breath.
Riven waited in the high garden, a narrow courtyard enclosed by glass and dark steel. Here, the wind passed softly between blackthorn hedges and rare flowers harvested from the abyss-touched farmlands. Ethereal lights drifted among the branches, flickering gently with ambient mana. It was a space built for reflection, far above the noise of the city. And this morning, it had been reserved.
For a conversation.
He stood by the balcony's edge, watching the mist burn away below as footsteps approached from behind.
Kael Danu entered without an entourage.
No guards. No mage. No advisors.
