The transition was subtle at first.
The roses in the royal gardens changed from white to a deep, bruised purple. Shadows in the city streets stretched longer than they should have. The stray cats of Sanctum vanished, and ravens with sharp, silver eyes began to watch the people instead.
Mirabelle stood on her balcony, looking out over the city. It was midnight, and the air felt heavy and charged.
"The stars look different," she whispered.
Revas leaned on the stone railing next to her. He was shirtless and didn't seem to mind the cold wind. His skin gave off a faint glow in the dark, and the chain around his neck pulsed with a slow, steady light.
"The stars are the same," Revas said, looking up. "The air is just thicker. My presence seeps out, Mistress. I'm like a heavy weight on reality. I tend to change things around me."
He reached out and caught a moth fluttering near the lantern. Its wings looked like black, delicate lace, not like any normal moth.
