The moment Aldric Goldfeather vanished down the staircase, escorted away with a veneer of politeness and hollow reassurances, the atmosphere on the second floor of the Adventurer Guild transformed in an instant.
The air grew dense.
It wasn't loud or chaotic, rather, it was stifling, as if the very walls were closing in, bearing the burden of the decision that had just been made.
The distant clamor of the first floor, thousands of Adventurers shouting, laughing, and negotiating, drifted faintly upward, distorted and muted, like echoes from another reality.
Here, on the second floor, silence reigned, thick and choking.
Sage stood at the edge of the lounge, his back straight, hands clenched so tightly behind him that his knuckles had turned an ashen white. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so but those who knew him best, Gregor, Mina and Valeria could sense the internal shift within him, the instant when resolve had crystallized.
