Jaren Vell stepped into their path before Lindarion could say anything.
His coat was torn at the sleeves, blood dried along the edge of one glove, and there were dark lines of smoke still rising from the ruin behind them. His sword wasn't drawn, but it might as well have been. His stance said it all.
"You're not going back there," Jaren said.
Lindarion didn't stop moving. "Get out of the way."
Sylric stepped beside him, eyes narrowed, mouth unusually quiet for once.
Jaren didn't budge. "This isn't a discussion. We barely survived that wave. The walls are gone. We're down to half our numbers, and that was just the first breach."
"You saw what came through," Lindarion said. "That wasn't a breach. That was a message."
Jaren's jaw clenched. "And you want to answer it alone?"
"They took her."
His voice cracked slightly on that.
Not loud. Not breaking.
Just real.
Jaren frowned. "I know."
