The night had completely fallen over Arkala.
The full moon dominated the sky, large and silver, illuminating the elven towers and making the magical barrier that protected the kingdom shine like a veil of ancient light.
Uzziel stood near the barrier, frowning with his arms crossed. He had already tried twice before. Every step he took towards the exit made the vines he had linked to his presence react immediately: the small shoots stirred, twisted, growing erratically, as if sensing the breaking of the bond.
He knew what that meant.
The moment he left Arkala, he would lose control over them. And then, the damage would be real.
He tutted in annoyance.
“Great… Just what I needed right now,” he murmured.
He couldn’t leave. Not yet.
His eyes landed on the guards patrolling the area. He
