Chapter 44 The Beginning of the End

Beneath the cloak of night, the throne hall was silent, its darkness as dense as ink. Upon the obsidian throne, the Dark Lord sat alone, one elbow resting lazily against the carved armrest, his fingers tapping in an idle rhythm. Through the shattered wall—a scar left behind by Windmaiden's escape—the moonlight spilled in thinly, brushing the edge of his seat with a silver ......