Chapter 78: Lightning
The air was thin and sharp up here.
The peak of the mountain stood still—untouched, wrapped in the arms of early afternoon light.
Golden rays cut through patches of lingering mist, casting streaks of warmth across the rocky terrain.
Birds circled overhead, wings wide and steady, before vanishing into the endless blue.
At the very top stood Elijah.
His arms folded behind his back, his long coat caught the wind and fluttered behind him like a battle flag.
His red eyes were locked on the world below—quiet, confident.
A small smile played on his lips, one born from peace and memory.
Just a few feet away, Tristan sat on a large log, his elbows resting lazily on his knees.
His hair was tied back, face turned toward the distant city that stretched out far beneath them.
He was calm on the outside, but in his eyes—fire. Restless, contained, but ready to burn.
