As the vow hung in the air, solemn and unyielding, Esteria and Celene exchanged a silent nod, a shared understanding passing between them. The flickering candlelight cast their shadows against the cold stone walls, the silhouettes of two determined souls ready to face whatever darkness awaited them.
Slowly, they turned and left the room, their footsteps muted on the stone floor as they made their way back to their quarters. The corridors seemed even colder, more foreboding, as if the castle itself mourned Alariel's loss. Guards stood at their posts, their eyes glancing warily at the two women as they passed. Esteria could sense the tension that filled the castle, an undercurrent of unease that had seeped into every corner, as if Alariel's death had cracked open something much darker.
