The return to Magnus territory was nothing short of breathtaking, even for those who had traveled through portals before. The circular gateway carved into white stone rose forty feet high, inscribed with ancient runes glowing in rotating hues of indigo and gold.
Nine Magnus mages stood around it, robes fluttering in the arcane wind as they chanted in perfect harmonic synchronization. Their magic intertwined like woven threads, steady, seamless, impossibly precise.
Dezyne approached the portal first. Devon stayed a few steps behind him, hands shoved into the pockets of his cloak, jaw tight. The elders followed in single file, bringing with them the five chosen children, each cradled or carried with great care.
Elias was placed on a floating stretcher of soft light, chest rising and falling gently in sleep. Alina, the dragon-child, curled instinctively into the arm of Elder Seraphiel, shimmering scales along her forearm catching the light.
