Just as Luke and Ilyrana were still taking in the sight of the gathered banners, the bustle of soldiers, and the sheer weight of the Virencian presence outside Barcken's gate, a sound drew Luke's attention closer to home.
A deliberate clap, clap, clap.
Not sharp enough to startle the crowd, yet loud enough to find Luke's ears. He turned, and there they were: Rashid, striding with that unmistakable swagger of his, and Taryn trailing behind, face obscured beneath a hood that gave his lean frame a sharper mystery. Luke instantly suspected that the hood was not Taryn's idea. With so many knights, generals, and even Saint Cynthia herself present, Rashid had probably thought it wise to keep the dark elf's identity hidden for now.
"Well, well," Rashid declared, his grin glinting as he slowed his steps. "What did I tell you, hm? Or rather, what did you tell me?"
He spread his arms, gesturing broadly to the sea of tents, armour, and banners that pressed against the horizon.
