The rain did not stop all at once. It faltered.
What had been a relentless downpour thinned into scattered streams, then into drifting droplets that slid from broken stone and tangled roots alike. Above the castle, the cloud cover had been carved open in a vast, clean division, as though the night itself had been cut and forced apart. Through that wound in the sky, the moon emerged, pale and steady, casting cold light over shattered battlements and the exposed interior where the roof no longer stood.
Everyone outside saw it.
Every soldier struggling against the remaining Void Creatures. Every heir scanning the perimeter. Every wounded warrior leaning against fractured walls.
They all lifted their gaze.
The sky had been split.
And they knew who had done it.
