Seraphis stood motionless, gazing at the horizon beyond the dark mountains that encircled the underworld. The shadows around him swirled like extensions of his troubled mind, dancing silently in the darkness. He had always been the king here, the absolute ruler of the shadows. But lately, something within him had changed—something he could no longer ignore. Elysiel, with her light and strength, had done the impossible: she had pierced the layers of darkness surrounding his soul.
Seraphis still felt the connection between them, even after the bond that united them was severed. That invisible thread pulled him incessantly, and he knew, in some way, Elysiel could still feel it too. Perhaps not in the same way, perhaps only as a distant shadow in the recesses of her mind, but the bond remained. It was not a physical connection but something deeper, something ancient—something tied to the prophecy that bound them together.
