Aria climbed back up into the ruined hall. The throne was silent now, its secrets revealed. She touched the reliquary at her belt, feeling the shard pulsing faintly in answer to the grimoire she carried. Both promised power—but also danger.
By the time she left the ruins, the sky over Lyria was already darkening. She walked until the city's banners came into view. The guards opened the gates quickly when they saw her, word of her return spreading ahead.
Fenric waited in the council chamber, sitting at a table covered in maps. He stood as she entered.
She was exhausted, her armor broken, but she placed the reliquary and the grimoire on the table.
"Did you get it?" Fenric asked, serious but calm.
Aria nodded and pushed the relics forward. "Yes. These are the ones."
She gave a tired smile. "Thank you. Without your warning, I might not have made it out."
Fenric studied her. "So… you resisted the traps."
"Just barely," she admitted.
