Snow whispered over the ice as Nyelthra knelt, orb aglow in her hands. Her wings shimmered into being, silent and radiant. The silence is not mercy, she murmured, voice layered with distant echoes. It is the breath before the scream. She turned her blind gaze toward the person beside her. When the sun forgets to rise, remember this moment. You were warned—not to fear the dark, but to carry the light.
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