The Weight of Nothing

Doran stood in the empty chamber, the silence a stark contrast to the fervent energy that had once filled it. Joric was gone, not in a blaze of glory or a defiant last stand, but with a quiet shuffle of feet, a man defeated not by an opposing force, but by the weight of nothing. Tamsin’s question had been the seed, and Doran’s relentless watering of it had caused the entire structure of their rebellion to crumble from within. There was no enemy to fight, no grand ideal to rally against. There was only the Symphony, a force that did not push back, and in its yielding, had broken them completely.