Alaric's POV
Years had dragged by since the Dark War erupted, and I lingered in the shadows, watching council members shuffle into our crumbling chamber. The Thornevale name I'd battled to restore weighed heavy on my conscience as I studied the grim parade. Every figure drifted like a ghost through the weak light, their steps ringing off stone walls that once shone with Luna castle's past magnificence.
Our meeting place showed every wound from the fighting. Crude stone benches had replaced the elegant chairs destroyed in previous attacks. Wavering torches threw shifting shadows over worn faces, turning each council member into a gaunt specter. The atmosphere pressed down with crushing desperation and silent failure.
