My only consolation is that I got Tyr to safety before the fighting became unmanageable. I’m not exactly sure what precipitated the eruption. Tensions were high, and people were angry and confused, but I don’t know what single entity triggered the match that lit the fuse. It probably wasn’t only one thing. It was a thousand tiny moments, each one pulsing with blood and fury and betrayal, crackling with dry sparks until the wildfire could no longer be contained.

My toe catches on a piece of paper. A torn poster with Atlas’s face on it. I lean down and pick it up, staring at his likeness. The crimes against the low fae are listed in bright red ink. Not only had he sequestered them to The Umbra, refusing to meet their demands or even hear them out, but he’d never had the authority to do any of this.

It all became too much.

Thunder rolls overhead, dark grey clouds tumbling over one another. A gust of wind tears the paper from my hand, and I watch it toss in the air like the final leaf falling in winter. It feels like an omen.

The gilded Sun Palace stands muted against the dull sky.

I wonder if it will ever sparkle the same way again.

I scan my surroundings, searching for my brothers. I spy their wings in the distance, their shoulders hunched. Drex and Syran guard Atlas in the dungeons while we all attempt to make sense of everything.

My gaze wanders to the palace and the shattered throne room ceiling. The dome that once looked over Aphelion is gone, every single piece obliterated into dust.

That awesome show of power might have been the spark that ignited the chaos. When those red bolts of lightning filled the sky, it shook something loose that had been squeezed tight for far too long. Lor. She got to the Mirror. But what happened to her? The fact that I haven’t seen her yet sits like a rock in my stomach, and I ask myself why I care at all.

Somewhere along the way, I started to care, and I know that’s dangerous. Caring always leads to disappointment. I’ve learned that the hard way, far too many times to count. But I recognize the good in her. She is brave and strong and loyal. She approached those barbaric Trials head-on and never faltered. Even I’m not too much of a cynic not to respect that.

She’d give the people of Heart the queen they finally deserve.

I shake my head and run a hand down my face. Shit, when did I get so sentimental?

Sighing, I limp towards the palace gates hanging askew from their hinges, my knee twisting with each step. I don’t remember how I injured it, but it’s enough to hamper my movement, sending jolts up to my hip.