The collapse of the Shardmirror Realm was not silent.
It screamed.
A cry of breaking glass and fractured memories tore across Raen's soul as he tumbled through the spiraling vortex, clutching the bleeding wound in his side. Each shard he passed reflected a moment he'd never wanted to see again. His father's body, burning. Lyra's eyes wide with betrayal. The child who screamed his name in the flames—
No. Not his name.
Her name.
The one she had taken from him.
Raen crashed onto stone. Hard. Wet. His ribs howled in protest, but his hands immediately reached for the ground.
Ash.
He was back in the Bleeding Hollow.
Or something like it.
The sky above was wrong. A dark red horizon, pulsing like a dying star. The air smelled like scorched blood and old sorrow. Ashveil was nowhere in sight, though the bond still throbbed faintly in the back of his skull like a fading heartbeat.
He stood slowly, trembling.
A whisper greeted him.
"You took it from me."
Raen turned.
