Ariane:
The tension in the war room was palpable, thick as a storm rolling in over bloodied battlefields.
Dozens of maps were spread across the table while we tried to figure out where the “below all things” place Kirros resided might be, ink still glistening from where Varek had drawn new battle lines across them.
Kaelen stood to my left, arms crossed, his golden eyes stern and distant. Varek loomed near the hearth, his frown etched deep into his ageless features, and me… I was still drinking wine.
“We need a plan,” Kaelen said, voice like a blade scraping across the stone.
I agreed, but somewhere in the midst of this, the only reality that made sense struck me, and something about knowing I was going to sacrifice myself made me want to do two things: get drunk and get f.u.c.k.e.d.
