Why do you resist? they whispered, their voices a chorus of a billion tears. We are not your enemy. We are your future. You fear us because you fear oblivion. But oblivion is peace.
Not defeated. Not gone.
He was slumped in the chair, his ash-white hair now streaked with silver. His copper eyes had faded to a soft, weary gold. Elara rushed to him, her hands shaking.