The fragile silence that bound Mordred and Elystria was brutally torn apart by a magical shockwave of supernatural intensity. This wave of pure power spread through the millennial walls of the palace like an invisible blade, infiltrating every carved stone, every forgotten recess, every particle of stagnant air. The aura that accompanied it was of primordial darkness glacial, crushing, charged with a millennial authority that made reality itself tremble.
Elystria was the first to suffer this presence. A violent shiver ran down her spine, her silver pupils dilating under the effect of ancestral terror, as if her dragon blood instinctively recognized a power superior to her own. Her hands began to tremble imperceptibly, and she unconsciously brought a hand to her throat, feeling her breathing accelerate.
