The soft light of late afternoon filtered through the window of Elysiel's room, casting a golden and tranquil glow on the ancient tapestries. Outside, the castle of Elandor seemed to breathe slowly, as if it awaited its queen's next move with restless anticipation. But within the walls of that room, Elysiel felt the weight of destiny pressing heavier on her shoulders.
Arabella sat beside her, her gaze fixed on her hands as if trying to organize her thoughts before speaking. The friendship between the two was deep, having endured countless trials, but Elysiel knew that things had changed since the pact with Seraphis. There was a growing tension between them, and this conversation was more necessary than ever.
— I know you're afraid, — Elysiel began, breaking the silence. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. — And so am I. The underworld... I don't know what to expect there. And now, with everything we're facing, I know nothing will be easy.
