The journey back to Eldoria was marked by an uneasy silence. The weight of what had transpired in the northern village hung heavy in the air, unspoken but ever-present. Emily could feel the shift within herself, the Abyss now a permanent part of her, humming quietly beneath her skin. It no longer felt like a threat, but its presence was undeniable—a constant reminder of the power she now wielded, and the danger it posed.
Alaric walked beside her, his gaze often flickering toward her as if searching for signs of change. Mira trailed behind, her bow slung over her shoulder, her steps uncharacteristically slow. The once vibrant energy that fueled their battles had dulled, replaced by a growing sense of uncertainty.
As they neared the gates of Eldoria, the towering spires of the city bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, Emily finally spoke.
"Are you going to ask?" Her voice was quiet, but steady.
Alaric glanced at her, brow furrowed. "Ask what?"
