Bodies fell from the sky like stars that had lost their grip on the galaxy. Children in gold burned in the marketplace. Silver-clad people painted the island in heaps of lustrous gray, limbs still knotted together in the last throes of panic. The hearts of lovers were stabbed through with shaking hands and sharpened blades. The curses were spun and felt in minutes, and Lightlark became more dead than alive. It is said that by the end of the day, six rulers of six realms came together before an oracle who spoke a prophecy.
What a way to start a book wow
