The world was quiet.

Not the quiet of peace, but the quiet that comes after something sacred has been broken.

Elaria’s first breath came sharp and shallow, scraping her throat like ash. Her lungs burned. Her ears rang. For a long moment, she couldn’t move — only stare at the fractured sky above her, the sickly orange dawn filtering through the drifting dust and ruin.

Something heavy pinned her chest — a splintered beam of marble from the council’s fallen arch. Her fingers twitched ...