Stephan's boots crunched in the sand as he moved slowly across the plateau, eyes darting to every edge of the barren expanse. Nothing but wind and dust greeted him. The faint, violet light of the Soul Desert was fading as dawn's first gold washed over the jagged stones.
"He couldn't have left," Stephan muttered, his voice low but edged with steel. His gaze swept the dunes, the cracked spires, the trails of shadow snaking from the cliffs. "He gave me until dawn. Something might have taken him."
Death stood a pace behind him, still as a statue carved from pale marble. The shifting shadow-mist clinging to her form curled tighter, like breath drawn in.
"Yes, my Lord," she said softly, without hesitation. "He was taken."
Stephan stopped, turning sharply to face her. Her shimmering eyes were lowered, but the flicker of blue-violet light inside them was sharp, focused.
"You seem… certain." His voice deepened, almost a growl. "Do you know something I don't?"
