I drew in a full breath and pushed myself upright, ash clinging stubbornly to my arms and hair. Elias rose beside me, his movements slow, deliberate. Together we moved through the wreckage—the shattered sigils, the jagged scars carved deep into the floor, the acrid smoke, and the faint crackle of dying magic that still hung like static in the air. Every step echoed the battle’s memory.
The Sorcerer was gone, but the air still throbbed with his presence, like a heartbeat pulsing deep within the castle. I tightened my grip on my bow and pressed forward, every step heavier than the last.
The Ash Queen led us forward, her presence both guide and protector, though she spoke little. I could feel her assessment of our abilities, her calculations of how we might survive the next encounter, and i
