Celine said nothing as she moved, but Ludwig studied the way her shoulders shifted under her cloak, the tiny twitch of her left hand as she tightened her grip on Palios. He felt his own senses stretch thin, every scrape of stone against his boots, every faint sound in the distance pulling at him. A weight settled in his chest, a mingling of anticipation and unease.
They passed through a shattered archway. The fortress opened around them into a hall so large Ludwig's breath caught for half a second. Moonlight, or something like it, filtered from cracks far above, catching on drifting motes of dust. The place was strewn with bodies. Not just fallen adventurers but ancient warriors, their armor still bearing insignias no living scholar would recognize. Some lay with swords snapped in their hands, others sprawled as if dragged.
But nothing of them remained but bones and the remains of what was once a struggling force, perhaps an invading one or perhaps people who just wanted to live.
