The group stood before the towering gate of the palace, its surface cracked and worn with the passage of centuries. Vines crept along its massive slabs of ancient wood, and the iron studs hammered into it were rusted deep orange. Despite its battered look, the gate still loomed strong and heavy, defying time itself.
The stone walls surrounding the palace reached high into the sky, jagged in places but solid enough that climbing seemed foolish at best. Liam ran his hand along the rough surface of the gate, feeling the weight of history pressing against them.
"Von," Liam called, nodding toward the door.
Von grunted, cracking his massive knuckles. He braced his thick legs apart and placed both hands against the gate. With a mighty roar, he pushed with all his strength. For a tense moment, it seemed like nothing would happen—then, with a loud groan and a cloud of ancient dust spilling into the air, the gate creaked open.
