The battle beneath the broken sky had ended in silence. Silence so vast it seemed the world itself had forgotten how to breathe. Yet silence, like ash, never lasts forever. Wind comes, memory stirs, and stories take root in the bones of a kingdom.Years LaterThe war was gone, but its shadow had never truly lifted. Decades rolled by, and in that time the people who had lived through the night of oaths grew old, bent, and gray. Their children, and their children’s children, asked what it was like to see the sky torn open, to hear fire clash with eternal dark. Few could give answers without tears.The kingdoms rebuilt, stone upon stone, village upon village. Cities that once burned with Rider flame now gleamed with new banners not of kings or warlords, but of unity. In the heart of the capital, no throne was raised. Instead, a monument stood: a jagged shard of blackened stone, scorched at its core, the very rock where Kael’s sword had struck the Rider’s essence.On its face, carved deep