The Keeper of False Truths…
Saying that name aloud made the air feel heavier. Damon felt a subtle shift in the armor of Pale Crown—it reacted, ever so slightly, to the mention of that cursed title.
This wasn't the first time he had heard it. The Beldam was the first to mention it… She had claimed he was the city lord of Lysithara, before rot and corruption had swallowed the city whole—twisting its citizens into nightmares and mockeries of flesh.
The one who had once worn the Pale Crown armor… had fallen just like the others. And in his fall, he became the Keeper of False Truths.
Damon was certain now—he still lurked within Lysithara's ruined walls. Even in his corruption, the city lord lamented his once-glorious kingdom.
"Why did the Keeper of False Truths do this to you…?" Sylvia's voice cut through the silence.
Though fear lingered in her eyes, curiosity burned brighter. She needed to know—perhaps more than she feared the answer.
