Calien and Erik led the way, their steps sure and measured as they moved through the debris-strewn streets of the town.
The moonlight cast long, eerie shadows across the cracked stones, and the distant sounds of the night—the low groans of the humanoid octopus creatures, the whisper of the wind through broken windows—felt far away, as if muffled by the tension hanging in the air.
The two boys moved with a purpose, their attendants close behind them, eyes wide, hands clutching their small weapons with white-knuckled grips. Chief Varros followed, his breathing slow and controlled, his mind racing with a thousand questions he didn't voice.
They reached the town's largest tower—a looming structure of dark stone, its roof a jagged crown against the star-swept sky. Calien paused, glancing at Erik.
"This is the one, right?" Calien whispered, barely loud enough for Varros to hear.
