Beyond the forest lay devastation.
A village, once full of stone cottages and flowering fields, now lay in ruin. Houses charred. Wells poisoned. Smoke still curled from the wreckage.
Selene covered her mouth. "What happened here?"
Orien's jaw tightened. "The Wraith King happened."
The silence was broken by a child's sob. From beneath a broken cart, a boy no older than eight crawled into view, dirt streaking his face. Behind him, three more children huddled, eyes wide with terror.
Selene knelt, her crown glowing faintly though she tried to dim it. "You're safe now," she whispered.
But even as she reached for them, shadows rippled at the edge of the ruins. Smoke twisted upward, forming into creatures with jagged limbs and burning eyes.
The children screamed.
Orien drew his sword. Lyriel crackled with angry light.
Selene stood, heart hammering, and raised her hands. "Stay behind me!"
The shadows lunged—
And the pendant blazed, flooding the square with radiance. The creatures shrieked, writhing before bursting apart into smoke.
When silence fell, the children clung to Selene's skirts, sobbing. She wrapped her arms around them, though her own knees threatened to give way.
Orien's eyes lingered on her—not mocking now, but calculating, as if seeing something he had not expected.
"You might actually survive this," he murmured.