With nothing else pressing for their attention, Luke and Ilyrana didn't linger.
They left the castle not with ceremony, but with quiet purpose—passing through familiar corridors, down steps worn smooth by generations of feet, until the air itself began to change. The warmth of stone gave way to the cool, salt-laced breath of the sea.
They didn't need a guide.
From the castle's eastern edge, the world opened up.
Beyond the final terrace, the land dropped away into a vast expanse of blue—endless, restless, and impossibly wide. The eastern sea stretched to the horizon, where sky and water blurred into one thin, uncertain line. Wind rolled in from that direction, carrying the sound of waves crashing far below, echoing against stone like a distant, constant thunder.
Luke slowed without meaning to.
