Rain kept falling.
It poured over the open sea in heavy grey sheets, hissing as it struck the water. Above, the storm clouds had been torn apart in a long, curved line where the black moon had passed, and pale light leaked through the wound in the sky.
Below, the sea was scarred.
A deep crater was still slowly filling where Nine Hells Descend had struck. Broken stone pillars jutted out of the waves like the bones of some drowned giant. Black mist drifted over the water, the last remains of a shadow army that no longer existed.
Even the space around them hadn't settled. It rippled faintly here and there, like the surface of a pond after a stone had been thrown into it.
And the air still trembled with remnant energy. Traces of shadow, lightning, wind and black flame lingered everywhere, crackling quietly in the rain.
In the middle of it all, Simon and Ilvara stood on the sea.
The Chaos Blade was buried in her chest.
Ilvara coughed.
