The air inside the safehouse was stifling, heavy with a tension that hadn't lifted since Kaelron's relic reacted violently to the cult leader. Shadows flickered along the walls from the sputtering candles, but they seemed darker now—deeper, as if the light itself feared to push them back.
Kaelron paced near the window, glancing through the curtain into the foggy streets of Lyndara. Ignis was stationed outside, hidden in an alleyway, and Frostbane prowled nearby, ready to warn of any approaching danger. Yet Kaelron couldn't shake the unease prickling at the edges of his mind.
Elorin sat hunched over the table, studying the map he'd been piecing together since deciphering the letter. His expression was troubled, but he worked in silence, his movements deliberate.
