*The Broken Stone*

The battlefield was quiet by morning. Smoke curled from shattered banners, broken weapons, and blackened earth. Wolves moved slowly, not as warriors now, but as mourners. They carried the fallen with reverent hands, laying them in neat rows along the edges of the clearing.

Crystal stood at the center, her body trembling, her eyes locked on the place where Evren had vanished. The faint shimmer of silver light still lingered there, like starlight refusing to ...