Vincent/Vaelthor~
The air still carried Katrina's scent when I stepped out from the shadows — roses and sunlight, like a sin pretending to be holy. I'd lingered just long enough to memorize every word of their little morning conversation, every hesitation in Nicholas's tone, every flicker of worry in her eyes. My footsteps cut through the silence as I slipped along the garden path, letting the world around me blur into the background.
The maze loomed ahead like an old beast with thorny ribs. Beyond it, the abandoned fountain sat in ruins — a relic the palace had long forgotten. Sylthara always found the weirdest places when she wanted to disappear, and sure enough, I found her perched on the crumbling edge, the fountain's water stagnant and mirror-still beneath the gray morning sky.
She was hugging her knees to her chest, hair loose around her pale face like strands of sunlight. Her magic hung heavy in the air, coiling and tightening with every breath she took.
