The Kingdom Unseen

The city smells of smoke and wet stone. The rain from last night

has soaked the streets, leaving puddles that reflect fractured

sunlight like shards of broken mirrors. I step carefully over

a fallen beam, boots slipping slightly on slick metal, and feel

the weight of the silence pressing against my ears. It's a quiet

that isn't peaceful-it's the kind of quiet that signals danger is

hiding somewhere, just out of sight.

Lyra walks beside me, her hand brushing against mine, small

but steady. I don't need her to speak; I can feel her tension as

sharply as my own. Every shadow seems to twist, every alley

feels like it could hold someone-or something-watching us.

And maybe it does.

Elias moves ahead, scanning the broken city with eyes that

are both haunted and calculating. He pauses at the shattered

remains of a fountain, its bronze statue slumped and twisted,

arm reaching skyward as though it had prayed and been ignored.

"The Dominion's gone," he murmurs, almost to himself.