Amberine pressed her back against the ancient wooden shelf, her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the faint booms of distant magical conflict echoing through Aetherion. The oppressive silence of the library, broken only by the occasional creak of shifting wood or the faint flicker of Ifrit's glow, seemed to magnify the cloaked man's steady footsteps. He was close. Too close.
"I found you," his voice came, low and taunting, echoing eerily in the confined space. It wasn't loud, but it carried an edge that cut through the stillness, crawling up Amberine's spine like ice. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from gasping, her trembling hands pressed against the edge of the nearest shelf. Dust motes danced lazily in the faint light of Ifrit's glow, as though mocking her rising panic. Somewhere above, the fortress quaked again, but the chaos felt worlds away compared to the suffocating intimacy of her predator's approach.
