He drew his sword not to strike, but to swear.
Vald stopped before it.
“You’re bleeding again,” Haldyn said. crimson spell volume 8
“I’m always bleeding.”
The moon hung low over Valdrigal, fractured like old bone. Haldyn pressed his palm against the ruins of the castle gate, feeling the curse pulse beneath the stone. Alive. Hungry. He drew his sword not to strike, but to swear