Chapter 146: The Invitation That Survived Velistrae
Velistrae was never quiet.
Even when nothing was happening, something was always happening. Especially a party.
The air itself breathed—slow, heavy, perfumed with desire and indulgence so thick it clung to the lungs. Purple mist rolled lazily through the streets, curling around spires, balconies, and silk-draped archways. Lanterns glowed softly through it, their light refracted until everything looked dreamlike and dangerous all at once.
And cutting through that haze—very awkwardly—was a gargoyle.
Its stone wings beat hard and heavy, sending ripples through the Velaryx Miasma as it flew with rigid determination. A rather ridiculous-looking nose mask was strapped tightly over its face, the straps digging into stone cheeks.
The gargoyle hated this territory.
Its stone eyes squinted as another wave of scented fog washed over it. Even with the mask, it could still perceive it.
The gargoyle slowed midair, wings faltering.
