The spectral gates closed behind the carriages with a whisper as the group continued on, the convoy continuing to roll through the dimly luminescent streets of the Shadow Isles, the mana-lamps overhead pulsing faintly with hues of indigo and violet.
The city all around them thrummed as they moved, shadows continuously bending when one walked past, as if bowing in slow reverence. The group also continuously saw many spectral figures drifting between various alleyways, echoes of people who had once lived, worked, loved, and died here.
Albedo leaned out the carriage window slightly, eyes scanning the streets. Everything about this place tugged at the edges of reality.
The architecture itself seemed to shift all around them, the walls rippled faintly, balconies swayed like waves in a still sea, and reflections of the group shimmered faintly distorted in glass that wasn't glass at all.
It was beautiful.
