Third Part: The Mark of Darkness

The shadows danced on the walls of the Healers' Quadrant as Violet made her way through the crowded corridors. The wounded lined every corner, wrapped in blood-stained blankets. The healers toiled tirelessly, their hands moving with mechanical precision as they sought to keep alive the soldiers who had survived the latest skirmish. Yet it was not just blood and pain that filled the air; it was the silence, the heavy cloak of unanswered questions and buried secrets.

Violet could feel the gaze of all upon her as she moved forward. To them, she was the daughter of General Sorrengail, the bearer of the lightning, a symbol of hope. Yet that facade was beginning to crack. Within her, an unease grew like poison, fueled by the choices she had made and those she knew she would soon have to make.

"Did you know you're leaving a trail of snow all along the hallway?" Imogen's voice shattered the silence like a knife. She appeared by his side, her gaze sharp as ever, but with a hint of weariness she couldn't conceal.

"And what of it?" Violet replied, without pausing.

"Thou art more disturbed than thou dost confess," Imogen retorted, adjusting her braid to keep it away from her face. "What unfolded up yonder?"