It ended too fast.
One moment the grove had been a riot of color and force, spells shrieking through the air, the ground groaning under pressure, and the next, there was only silence. Not peaceful silence. No. The kind that rang. The kind that left her ears aching, as if the world itself had just flinched.
Verona stood frozen where she was, heart hammering so hard it made her dizzy. Her fingers were numb. Her mouth tasted like iron and cold wind.
Around her, the forest bore the proof.
Trees lay split and folded as if struck by a god's careless hand. Charred earth smoldered in uneven spirals. What remained of the assassins, robes torn, barriers shattered, bodies thrown at impossible angles, was scattered like broken toys abandoned by a bored child.
It hadn't been a battle.
It had been an erasure.
