Xavier adjusted the fine blue tunic one final time as he followed the servant through corridors that belonged in a dream rather than a fortress. The volcanic stone walls were polished to mirror perfection, embedded with crystal formations that cast dancing shadows in the warm light. Tapestries depicting ancient battles hung between carved archways, while the floor beneath his boots was inlaid with patterns that seemed to shift and flow like liquid fire.
The clothing they'd provided transformed him completely. Gone was the blood-stained survivor who'd stumbled through Hearthome's gates. In his place stood someone who could pass for minor nobility—the deep blue fabric brought out his altered eye color, while the gray cloak suggested wealth without ostentation. Even his boots had been replaced with soft leather that made no sound against the stone.
