Elynor sat by the fire he gazed at it deeply the sun was beginning to set there was still no sign of Isolde. Lorren and Elias worked tirelessly casting tracing spells and but it was as if she had simply vanished from the world. Elynor pressed his fingers to his lips, exhaling a quiet breath. His chest ached with every passing moment. He knew Isolde was strong—stronger than she even realized—but the thought of her alone out there, facing whatever Malphus had thrown at her... it gnawed at his gut like a slow-burning fire.
He silently cursed his own weakness he glanced down the bruising on his body turned a deeper shade of blue black. Every time he move the tenderness became raw, "Would you like some supper, Your Highness?" A knight stood hesitantly by the fire, a wooden tray balanced in her hands. Elynor shook his head without looking at him. "Not now, thank you."
