The early morning air felt sharp against my skin as we prepared to leave the inn. I could feel the tension in every movement, in every breath each of us took. Aurelia pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, the edges of her fiery hair barely visible beneath the hood. Lyan, with his usual smirk, leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing as he watched me gather my things. Anastasia stood a few paces away, her gaze darting from one person to the next, lingering on Lyan for just a moment longer than anyone else.
"You think we're ready for this?" Lyan asked, breaking the silence that had hung over us since we'd gathered in the common room. His voice was casual, but I could hear the undercurrent of unease there. He wasn't making light of the situation—not this time.
Aurelia shot him a glare, adjusting the straps of her satchel. "We have to be ready. If you have doubts, maybe you should—"
