The Mourning of Heavens

Izekiel's eyes widened, lips parting to speak words that never came out. His hold over her faded as Izekiel staggered back. The dragon stone carried an eerie gleam as it was stained in his red blood.

It was red...not black.

His breaths stilled, the pained expression subsiding as Izekiel's face appeared oddly calm. He fell on his knees and made no sound as the crimson seeped through his dark clothes and spread across the carpet.

Nesrin let out a shaky breath as her eyes refused to move. Her legs were cold and numb. The blood was too much and her tears were unstoppable as an ominous heaviness settled inside of her.

And she waited.

For him to say something, or move, or even breathe but nothing happened.