The air in the dusty tavern hung thick with whispers and stale ale. Aurelia, cloaked in twilight shadows, eyed the newcomer with suspicion. The woman, cloaked in crimson silk, had slipped into the booth mere moments ago, her entrance as silent as a falling feather.
"Who are you?" Aurelia's voice was sharp, honed by years of facing danger.
"Serena," the woman replied, her voice a low purr. "I come from Falcon."
Aurelia's heart twisted in her chest. "Falcon?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper. "Where is he? Why hasn't he come himself?"
Serena's gaze, the color of storm clouds, dropped to her lap. "He... couldn't face you, Aurelia. Not like this."
Unease snaked its way down Aurelia's spine. The cryptic message, the shadows Falcon had chosen to leave in, it all hinted at something darker, something he couldn't bring himself to say.
"Tell me," Aurelia demanded, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "What is it? What has Falcon done?"
