The world did not end with a scream; it ended with a letter and a lingering scent of lavender.
In the heart of the Aevum Empire, darkness is not just a shadow—it is a living, breathing rot. It is a curse that withers the grass and hollows out the souls of Kings. But deep within that darkness, a secret was buried, wrapped in aged parchment and hidden behind the fierce, guarded eyes of a mercenary who knew only how to survive.
"Our Solace... You are our little soldier in the middle of the winter."
Solace was a girl born of ghosts and raised by the wild, carrying a name that promised peace in a land that only knew war. She walked the dusty roads with a sword that felt like an extension of her soul and a heart encased in ice, never knowing that her blood held the spark to reignite a dead civilization. She was an outcast, a prodigy of the shadows, and the last heartbeat of a kingdom called Thera.
But she was not the only one trapped in a destiny she didn't choose.
Prince Alaric of Aevum stood in the gilded cage of his father's palace, watching the man who raised him turn into a monster of soot and shadow. He was a prince of a falling house, an heir to a throne of bone, tasked with hunting the very light he secretly craved. He was the hunter who became the shield, the traitor who became a savior, and the only man brave enough to stand three steps behind a woman who could burn the world down.
From the blood-stained stables of Erindale to the invisible walls of a forgotten fortress, their journey was written in the stars long before they ever met. It is a tale of a silver-rimmed mirror that reveals a Queen, a black-iron sword that demands a father's life, and a love that was never supposed to exist between the predator and the prey.
The silver trumpets are lifting their heads. The ancient gates are groaning on their hinges. The winter is ending, and the soldier is finally coming home.