As we pressed deeper into the wreckage of Bran's fortress, the anticipation of confronting Akasha and Margaret was palpable. Each step we took was measured; our senses honed for any sign of danger. The fortress, now eerily quiet after the chaos of battle, seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the resolution of our pursuit.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by a figure emerging from the shadows—a presence so unexpected that it halted us in our tracks. The stranger, cloaked in dark, tattered robes, moved with an effortless grace that spoke of both skill and confidence. His arrival was as sudden as it was startling, and for a moment, we stood frozen, taken aback by his intrusion.
"Who is this?" Silas' voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the newcomer. The gauntleted hand resting on his sword tensed slightly, a sign of his readiness for anything.
