Sylvia and Sofia walked back toward the castle at a leisurely, synchronized pace, like two shadows that were never truly separated. The morning sun had risen high enough, its rays slipping through the thin mist of Nocture and gently reflecting off the death crystals embedded along the black stone road. The city pulsed with its usual rhythm: the clang of dwarf hammers echoing from workshops, merchants of various races shouting their wares, children of all kinds running and laughing, and the morning breeze carrying the scent of damp earth mixed with forge smoke. Everything felt peaceful too, after what they had experienced the night before in the silent forest.
But that peace shattered as they approached the main gate.
