The snow fell in heavy, swirling sheets, muting the world in a ghostly white.
For a single, fragile moment, Cael, Lyric, Sylas, and Alaric stood frozen with the memories of the healer they had trusted most pressing painfully against their hearts. This was the very field where Torin Alderune had taken his last breath and where he had thrown himself between them and death when everyone else had turned away.
The wind carried faint echoes of his sacrifice, and even the howling storm seemed to mourn him.
It was here that Alaric had witnessed Torin giving everything to save them while the very people he had personally recommended, those who are supposedly loyal supporters of the Davenmore household fled in terror.
They had abandoned Torin to die alone.
