Noirette and Blanchette eventually found themselves in a special prison cell of the Resilient Mother bastion.
The room was stark, its walls hewn from reinforced stone etched with faint glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat, casting dim blue light across the floor.
The air was cool and stagnant, carrying a faint salty tang from the enchantments woven into the structure.
They were still chained with the same restraints Dorose had inflicted upon them—the cold metal links wrapped around their torsos and arms, the attached holy crosses humming with a subtle energy that suppressed any flicker of power.
It was only that Noirette realized that her fever lingered, a persistent heat that made her skin clammy and her movements sluggish, each breath a labored effort.
She leaned against the wall, trying to steady herself, while Blanchette sat cross-legged on the floor, her posture relaxed as if this were merely an inconvenient pause in their journey.
