Seraphine stood on the edge of the castle’s shattered courtyard, her eyes fixed on the faint shimmer of the Veil in the distance. A low hum vibrated in her chest, a sensation she couldn’t escape, no matter how far she ran. The world was slipping, tearing apart at the seams, and she felt the weight of it pressing in on her every breath.
Behind her, Ronan Blackthorn stepped into view, his dark silhouette cutting through the mist. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the horizon, the remnants of the kingdom in the distance.
"We’ve waited too long," he muttered, his voice rough with the truth they both knew. The veil wasn’t the only thing breaking—it was everything.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

...into This!

What should have been another beautiful twilight sky hung in shattered fragments above her. The clouds were split by black jagged cracks, and beyond them she could see the eyes pressing through them. Seraphine gave a weak chuckle. The whole kingdom, from the widest valley to the deserted castle courtyard she now stood in, was nothing but a fishbowl.
“It’s time.”
As Ronan stepped out from the evening mists, she didn’t give him so much as a glance. She’d had more than enough of his mirth and mystery. She’d much rather stare out past the drawbridge, past the flames of the panicked mobs, and out to the hills where she could imagine her home. Had she put that spellbook away in the right spot or left it by her bed again? She couldn’t recall.
“Sera, we’ve waited too long.”
“...I know.” She murmured. The pain in her chest matched the cracks in the sky. For every splinter in the sky came a stab at her heart. She rubbed her aching head. She must have put that spellbook away, right? Surely she wouldn’t be so careless.
“Sera! You must–!”
“I know, Ronan!” Her cold words were punctuated by another stab at her heart, another crack in the sky, another reminder that she’d never know whether she’d put that spellbook away. “Just… please. Wait a little longer.”