[Leif's POV—Thorenvald Estate—Moments Later]
Baron Sigurd's words hung in the air like ice.
A dead female.
My breath hitched. The divine glow around Luminael flickered, dimming as if he too sensed the shift in the room. Alvar's grip on my shoulder tightened—not painfully, but firmly, grounding me.
"Where?" Alvar's voice was low and sharp. Too sharp. He only sounded like this when he was seconds away from drawing blood.
Sigurd swallowed hard.
"N-Near the northern forest's border, my lord. She… she appeared recently. The knights are securing the area—but…"
But he couldn't finish.
Alvar's jaw clenched.
I pushed to my feet, Luminael still in my hand. A faint tremor buzzed through the hilt—Luminael was trembling.
"Master…" the sword whispered, voice suddenly small. "Something is wrong. Very wrong… the light—it's been…" He hesitated. "Taken."
A cold dread snaked through my spine.
Taken?
What does that—
Alvar turned to me, eyes dark with worry. "Leif. You stay behind me."
