CHAPTER 57
The corridor outside the Light Room was calm. It was too quiet. The kind of quiet that comes after a storm, where no one dares to speak out of fear that sound alone could summon another.
Grace, unconscious in the arms of two commanders, was being carried gently but with urgency. Her fingers still twitched slightly, sparks occasionally flaring in thin arcs between them. The glow from her skin had dimmed, but it had not completely vanished. And everyone noticed.
The seers who disappeared in the light room, was now seen walking ahead of her, silent and steady, their golden robes swaying with each step. They hadn't spoken a word since declaring Parkston's judgment was to be postponed. But their silence didn't mean peace. If anything, it made everyone more on edge.
