His head swam, the weight of his thoughts dragging him down until the cold earth became his bed. As he drifted away from the painful reality, he expected to see familiar nightmares—the suffocating dark waters that had haunted him since first touching shadow magic. But the dream that came was different. Ravens. Dozens of them, perhaps hundreds, descending in a shrieking maelstrom of ink-black feathers. They did not simply attack; they feasted. Talons and beaks tore at his flesh with methodical cruelty, each strip of skin peeled away revealing not blood, but swirling darkness beneath. But the true horror came as their cries coalesced into words: "Arrogant child!" they screeched in unison, their voices sharp with scorn. "How dare you bring Rukhmar's fire where shadows rest? The Sun abandoned us, and it will abandon you!".
