The plains stretched endlessly before them, a sea of gold beneath the waning sun. The air felt lighter away from Kyranth, but Eryndor couldn’t shake the oppressive weight pressing against her chest. Each step away from the ruins felt like a betrayal to her resolve, as if she were abandoning something unfinished.
Kaelen led the way, his easy stride contrasting with the tension radiating from Seris, who trailed behind them with his hand resting on his sword. Eryndor walked between them, silent, her mind preoccupied with fragments of memory from the battle.
“I still don’t understand why the runes are so quiet,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Kaelen glanced over his shoulder. “Isn’t that a good thing? No glowing, no burning—sounds like peace to me.”
“Too quiet,” Eryndor corrected. “It do
