Inside a dimly lit inn tucked into the bustling center of Austerra, the quiet hum of life outside barely reached the second floor.
The faint glow of a lone oil lamp threw long, trembling shadows across the cabin walls, its light spilling over the rough wooden table where Auren and Austaire sat.
Their focus was fixed on the scattered papers spread before them, a silence thick with the weight of unspoken doubts and the looming risks behind their plans.
Night had only just begun.
Auren leaned back in his chair, arms folded, his crimson eyes gleaming like sharpened steel as they traced every mark on the parchment.
Across from him, Austaire, fresh from her quick run of gathering information, bent low over the map. Her quill moved with steady precision, gliding across the surface as she committed details from memory.
Her jaw was set, her movements measured and deliberate, as if each stroke of ink was less a note and more a vow etched into paper.
