Mal's breathing was steady, but the weight of Riven's presence lingered like a brand against his skin. He kept his head bowed, feeling the heavy silence pressing in from all sides as the remnants of the kingdom chanted their devotion. The sound carried through the ruins, a mixture of desperation and worship, a people clinging to the promise of their king's return.
Riven let the moment stretch, allowing them all to feel the gravity of it. Then, his abyssal flames flickered and receded, the pressure in the air easing slightly. The murmurs of the gathered crowd softened, and Mal finally lifted his head, silver eyes unreadable.
"Show me," Riven commanded. "If you and Damon have truly done anything worth keeping, then show me."
Mal hesitated for only a second before nodding sharply. He rose, brushing off the dust from his dark robes, and motioned for them to follow.
