The chamber they stumbled into was quiet, almost unnervingly so. Ancient statues lined the cracked walls—winged figures carved from stone, their faces eroded to featureless masks. Dust blanketed the floor in thick layers, yet the air felt wrong, heavy, as though the place itself was still alive.
Noel dragged a boot across the ground and sat down heavily against one of the statues. He struck his fingers together, a thin arc of fire sparking into being. "Fire Arc." A controlled flame flared to life, hovering low over the ground, giving the chamber a dim, orange glow.
Selene settled beside him, her wand resting across her lap. Her breathing was steadier now, though her shoulders slumped in a way Noel wasn't used to seeing. She was always poised, composed—tonight she just looked… tired.
"You almost burned yourself out back there," Noel said lightly, watching the fire dance.
Her cyan eyes cut to him, sharp as ever. "And you didn't?"
