Galenka saw a magical anchor glide out from the bow as the ship approached the eroding edge of the floating island. It reached forward, glowing dimly, then fused into the weathered stone wall without further harm. As if the magic itself honored the age and history of the ruin, the anchor held firm despite the wall's fragility, securing the ship to the island with a touch of arcane precision while remaining graceful.
"Since we only have three people, let me go first." Normally, an explorer team would go first to gather information about the island's geography. Rocco said.
"Normally, I would do it as a tank, but since you are so much more agile and resilient than I am, it makes sense." Richard said.
"But don't you know the island already?" Galenka asked.
"Time and space bend in the desolate realm," he said, shaking his head. The landscape is constantly shifting.
"I assumed it wasn't a solid terrian that could be shifted, just the space." She went on.
