Grace tightened the leather straps of her gloves as she leaned against the stone railing of their rented room's balcony. Below her, the city of Zephir shimmered in the soft lavender glow of twilight, its streets lit by floating crystal lamps and illuminated glyphs that danced along the buildings. The evening air carried the scent of wildflowers and baked bread, mixed with something more subtle—power. Magic was thick in the air here, coiling through the very fabric of life.
Behind her, Rune paced slowly across the room. His cloak was tossed over a chair, his long golden hair tied back, and his transformed brown eyes dark with thought. Grace could feel his restlessness like static electricity.
"They were more than just warriors," Rune finally said, voice low. "They were my family."
Grace turned toward him, nodding. "Then we start with them. We find them."
Rune stopped pacing. "We'll have to go to the Capital."
Grace didn't miss the tension in his voice. "Is it that dangerous?"
