The ghostly image of my mother remained suspended above the ancient throne, and the silver fire surrounding her made the chamber feel strangely alive. Her eyes were fixed on Draven, and although she was only a memory, there was something so deliberate about the way she looked at him that my chest tightened.
Draven stepped forward, his expression hardening as he stared at her.
"What did my father do?" Draven asked.
His voice echoed through the chamber, and the question seemed to carry years of anger beneath it.
Lyriana's image flickered slightly, although her expression remained calm.
"The memory cannot reveal everything yet, Draven, because too much was hidden from those who sought the truth." She said.
"Then tell me what you can." Draven said.
Draven's jaw tightened, and I could se
