Two days had crawled by since the tense assembly within the grand hall. An unsettling quiet had descended upon Ullion.
Though no fresh reports of human deaths surfaced, the streets remained eerily deserted. The fear that had gripped the city lingered, a tenacious shadow refusing to dissipate. The trauma was too raw, the wounds too fresh.
People still moved with a nervous haste, the memory of brutal killings fresh in their minds. It was simply too soon to accept that the nightmare might be over.
Silax, cloaked in the crimson glow of Aethel, the blood-red moon, navigated the deserted streets. Tonight, marked the Crimson Night, a night steeped in an otherworldly significance.
His original plan, to complete the enchantment he'd begun on the Unbound Day, had been shelved. A more pressing matter demanded his attention.
