Darkness swallowed the horizon in one ravenous gulp. Swathes of firmament submitted to the torrent of premature night.
Mathos shivered. His heart was a lump of ice. Bile rose in his throat, sludgy as the blackness above.
“Mathos,” cried Elle. “You see that?” Her voice quavered.
A staff appeared in Mathos’ fist. His eyes burned. “Yes, my wife. This time I must vanquish the Dark One once and for all.”
Elle leapt at him, a silent scream on her lips. Her fingers sunk in a pool of light.
Mathos soared, bearing the shape of a dove, and entered the darkness.