The wind howled across the frozen plains of the Northern Border of Planet Sirius, carrying the weight of a silent war between the past and the present.
Rohzivaan stepped past the towering iron gates of the Mors Estate, his boots crunching against the frost-covered ground.
The ancestral home of the Mors bloodline loomed before him, an unyielding fortress carved from obsidian stone, its dark spires piercing the sky like silent sentinels.
He had been away for too long, yet the cold atmosphere remained the same. As he entered, the grand hall was eerily quiet, but Rohzivaan knew better. They were waiting for him.
At the far end of the room stood his mother, Lady Lotisia Mors, her silver eyes brimming with an emotion he had long since learned to ignore, pleading.
She rushed forward, her silver-white robes flowing behind her as she grasped his hands with trembling fingers.
"Rohzivaan," she whispered, her voice barely holding back desperation. "Please… don't do this."
