Amelia PoV
I watched Vadim fell from the sky as Reginald pulled his boney vines free from his swings and ribs.
My knuckles were bone-white against the rim of the stone basin. A scream clawed at my throat, but in the silence of the ethereal garden, only a ragged, suffocating gasp escaped my lips.
Across my knees lay the answer to it all: the sheathed katana Even had forged for Mirei.
The dark scabbard was ice-cold against my trembling palms. Locked inside its temper were two impossible authorities—Even's control over the river of time, and the Goddess of Light's gift of 'Eternity.' It had caught my soul when Bulgae drove his claws through my chest, suspending my death in this pocket of blooming pastel flowers. But its true function was far more terrible.
