Luke swept through the keep like a summer storm, moving with cold, swift fury. His aura stretched out in long, black tendrils, grasping at everything and plunging the keep into an icy chill. The shadowy staff in his hand pulsed with a malevolent violet light.
I stumbled after him, tears streaming down my face, drawn in his wake like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. A morbid curiosity, a desire to see this through, kept my feet moving. I had to know what was happening, if Luke truly was different from Soltair.
Luke slowed as we approached the keep gates, turning back to face me. Lost in my thoughts, I nearly bumped into him. He quickly steadied me with a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly apologized, lowering my head and wiping away my tears.
