The chamber was dim, lit only by the steady glow of mana lamps fixed into the carved stone walls. Their faint bluish light painted long shadows across the room, giving the air a heavy, muted stillness. Nicolas stirred, his eyelids heavy as he forced them open.
His body felt wrong. Heavy. Weak. The familiar hum of mana that had always coursed through his veins was gone—an emptiness spreading in its place. He tried to draw on his core out of instinct, but there was nothing. Not even a spark.
His breathing hitched. Slowly, he raised his hand. Wrinkled skin met his eyes—lines deeper than he remembered, the bones thinner, frailer. He reached for his face with trembling fingers, finding sagging skin and hollows he had not known before.
