The blood had already begun to dry on her skin, hardening like old bark on wounds that wouldn't heal any time soon. Sylphie's core, now filled again with an unstable light, trembled in her palm as if recognizing the call.
It was then that Kael felt it.
A distant warmth, a faint thread of energy that brushed against his senses - familiar, fragile, and, above all, urgent. It was as if the world itself was whispering Sylphie's name to him again. But this time not as a lament... but as a plea.
Amelia.
Irelia.
Sylphie.
All three were together.
Fallen.
Kael didn't hesitate. He simply punched the air and opened a small passage, teleporting.
The silent hall in Azalith shuddered with a whisper of energy as Kael appeared in the center of the circle, his body shrouded in dark mist and flakes of shadow. The ground beneath his feet split into fine cracks, reacting to the magical force that surrounded him.
