The arrow was not made of wood or steel, but of solidified shadow. Erome, the last Keeper of the Silent Quiver, felt its weight less in his hand and more in his chest. It hummed with a frequency that ached behind his teeth.
He closed his eyes. The city screamed. A child’s cry cut through the din. arrow erome
He would have to choose more carefully next time. But for now, in the blessed, ringing silence, Erome allowed himself a single, broken whisper of a smile. The arrow was not made of wood or
He released.