Nolan stood outside his villa, hands clasped behind him, the silvery light of the moon spilling across his gardens like a river of quicksilver.
From where he stood, high up in Silver Blade City, a twisting column of magical smoke rose in the air, it's mist coalescing into an eerie scene of the tower far away on the distant isle.
Within that shimmering projection, shapes moved and fought — Calien, Erik, their two attendants, and Chief Varros — trapped inside the tense halls of that mysterious structure.
He studied the scene carefully, lips pressed into a thoughtful line as he observed their figures halting in mid-stride. Even at this safe distance, Nolan could feel a sense of unease humming through the ether.
In the tower itself, that unease had become palpable.
