A Riftborn’s Rebellion

The Battlefield's Silence – A War That Never Began

The battlefield stretched before Ethan like a frozen graveyard, its silence more deafening than the clash of steel that had filled it moments ago. Snow swirled in lazy spirals, catching the dim light of a sun too weak to pierce the iron-gray clouds.

He knelt in the frost, Mia's unconscious weight a steady anchor against his chest. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven rasps, her golden hair matted with sweat and ice. Her eyes—those fierce, burning golden eyes—remained shut, twitching beneath their lids as if trapped in a nightmare she couldn't escape.

Ethan's hands tightened around her shoulders, his calloused fingers brushing against the tattered edges of her cloak. She was alive. That was what mattered.

But the lightning that had crackled around her, the wild energy that had nearly torn her apart, was gone—snuffed out like a candle in a storm.