Crossing the boundary felt like stepping through a wall of static. The air buzzed, Althea's ears popped, and the world on the other side was… sharper. Colors were more vivid, the air tasted of ozone and old stone, and the ambient Qi was thick enough to make her skin prickle.
The Verdant Willow sect moved in a tight formation, Elara at the front, their leader in the center. Lucian walked beside Althea, hands in his pockets, looking bored.
They weren't the first group through. The valley inside was already a chaotic camp. Pavilions in clan colors dotted the landscape. Banners flapped in the weird, still air. The sound of a hundred different conversations, laughter, arguments, and the clang of practice blades filled the space.
"Stay close," Lucian said quietly.
"I'm not a child," Althea muttered.
"Didn't say you were. I said stay close."
She shot him a look but didn't argue.
