Leaving the enchanted square, Kael took the path that led to the Upper City market—a lively cluster of tents, magical stalls, and merchants of all races. Day had not yet completely given way to night, and the magical lights of the runic lampposts began to light up one by one, bathing the street in soft shades of gold and blue.
He needed some specific herbs, reagents for his manipulations, perhaps a new grimoire to record the patterns that were emerging more clearly in his practice. In addition, there was something on his mind — a restlessness. And Raven, with his bar hidden in the heart of the city, would be the perfect place to process everything with a strong drink and the discreet silence of those who understand the weight of carrying power.
But as Kael crossed the first aisles of the market, he felt something.
