Keiser glanced at Tyron just in time to see him slipping the vial into the elf's waiting hand. Tyron's face was tight with urgency, but there was a flicker of regret there too, a silent gamble. Without hesitation, they all bolted up the conjured stairs.
The air was dank and heavy at first, the walls pressing close around them as their boots struck the stone steps.
Keiser risked a glance over his shoulder. Behind them, the stairwell was already collapsing. Each step crumbled away, stone folding back into the wall, returning to solid ground as though it had never been disturbed.
By the time they emerged at the top, bursting into the open air, Keiser's lungs burned with the effort.
He stumbled forward, his eyes widening as the last cobblestones beneath their heels shuddered, flattened, and knit themselves back into the ground, until nothing remained but the familiar road.
