Shadows of Varron

Towering black spires clawed at the sky, their edges glowing faintly with runes that pulsed like veins. The city seemed alive, its energy almost tangible, as if the ground beneath it housed something ancient and restless.

The streets were a labyrinth of cobblestones and flickering lanterns, the glow of alchemical forges casting eerie shadows on the walls. Varron was a city of contradictions—a place of progress and peril, where merchants sold gleaming artifacts alongside mercenaries offering blades for hire. Kaelen could feel the eyes of the city on him, as if Varron itself were appraising him, weighing his worth.

For a man who had lost everything, Varron was both a refuge and a trial. Without his powers, he was vulnerable, a shadow of his former self. But he refused to let that define him. He had endured worse and come out stronger. He would adapt, just as he always had.