"Perfect." Damon grinned. "That's exactly what I needed to hear. How fast can you get here?"
"Right away."
Sylvara arrived at Ranthor City not long after Damon's call. She came cloaked, her silver-streaked golden hair hidden beneath a hood, but her bearing alone drew eyes from all directions. She walked straight over to a restaurant where Damon was waiting for her.
"Long time no see." Damon smiled.
Sylvara laughed at his bad joke anyway, making her look even more radiant. She slipped out of her cloak and sat down opposite him in the private booth. "You have been busy." She smiled bitterly.
Damon leaned back in his seat, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly in the dim lantern light of the booth. "Busy is one word for it," he said, swirling the untouched drink in front of him.
Sylvara exhaled softly, shaking her head. "One hundred and twelve apprentices. Do you have any idea what kind of storm you've just kicked up?"
