The air felt unnatural, thickened by an unseen force that weighed on their lungs. The citadel doors had shut, locking away whatever lay beyond, leaving only the two figures standing before them—W'ithas and Rhedel.
They had emerged from the darkness like heralds of something greater, something that lurked beneath the surface of the world
All of them stood, where they were, not moving.
W'ithas, being his usual self, crackled as he moved towards Daratrine, "Well, well, well, who do we have here?"
Rhedel watched the knights, but he was more wary of the elves.
Those two elves were dangerous; he knew that. They were more powerful than the three knights present on the other side.
He also moved W'ithas towards where Jaegar and the rest were standing.
The silver moonlight filtered through the ancient forest canopy, casting dappled shadows across the moss-covered ground.
