After the Eternals
The black sands were silent at last. No storms, no roots, no thunder, no fire but their own. The three Eternals' bodies had turned to dust, their glyphs scattered like broken constellations across the shore. The continent had felt their fall, and the remaining hidden Eternals would now know that inevitability had reached their heartland.
But for the first time since crossing the sea, Hei Long and his women had a night without battle. No kings, no crowns, no storms. Only heat rising from the glass under their feet and the heavy breath of survival.
Sparks Under Glass
Qingxue sat on a smooth sheet of glass that had once been dunes, her sword lying across her knees. Her pride had carved armies and Eternals alike, but her eyes lingered on Hei Long as though she feared being forgotten.
