The morning light filtered through the high windows of the academy, casting a quiet glow over Valen's chambers. For the first time in what felt like ages, his mind was clear. He no longer sensed the insistent whispers of the mark or the dark tug at the edge of his thoughts. Instead, there was silence, an unfamiliar calm that left him feeling both relieved and exposed.
So this is what freedom feels like, he mused, rubbing the place on his wrist where the mark had once pulsed with a life of its own.
But as liberating as it was, Valen knew it was only temporary. The Veil Severance ritual might have silenced the mark for now, but the Black Vow would come looking for him—he could almost feel their shadow lingering somewhere just out of sight, waiting for him to falter.
He found Aylara in one of the academy's quiet gardens later that morning, the soft rustle of leaves filling the silence as she regarded him with a wary expression.
