The moon was a thin blade in the sky when Liora burst into Kaelen's chambers. Her face was pale, her breath sharp.
"We have to leave. Now."
Kaelen straightened from the desk where he'd been studying ancient Abyssal glyphs. "What happened?"
She handed him the note. His eyes flicked across the ink, his jaw tightening.
"The Council…" he whispered. "They've already chosen their side."
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside—heavy, armored. Kaelen recognized the rhythm of trained city guards. Not just a patrol. A search party.
He snatched his blade, fastening his cloak. Liora moved to the window, scanning the alley below. "We go through the rooftops," she said.
They slipped into the cold night, shadows wrapping around them as they darted across the tiled roofs. Below, guards fanned out, torches slicing through the darkness.
At the city's eastern wall, Kaelen felt it again—the pulse of the Abyss in his veins, urging him to fight, to unleash. He clenched his fists, resisting the call. This wasn't the time.
They reached the gate, only to find it barred and guarded. Liora's eyes swept the stonework. "The drainage channel," she murmured. "If it's still unsealed…"
Minutes later, they waded through cold, rushing water, emerging beyond the walls into the wilds.
Far in the distance, storm clouds gathered unnaturally fast over the mountains. Kaelen's voice was low but certain.
"That's where we start. Whatever the Veilmaster is planning… it's coming from there."
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