[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: The Deathless Fortress]
It did not take long to find Morgan. She stood in the courtyard again—still as a statue—gazing down at the ground where a fresh ring of dead flowers lay collapsed in brittle heaps. Their color had evaporated entirely, drained by the suffocating mana of the fortress.
Morgan exhaled, a wry but weary sound. "I suppose I feel a little foolish for telling you to take your time choosing, I left you to deliberate on your decision—yet it seems you made it far quicker than expected." Her eyes turned up to Dante's imposing silhouette.
"There were only a few matters that required weighing," Dante replied, arms folded loosely. His gaze drifted to the wilted petals. "Your flowers suffered the expected outcome."
