The acrid scent of smoke and shattered stone filled the air as Varian and Malrik raced through the corridors of the estate's eastern wing.
Their footsteps echoed against ancient walls now marred by dust and debris, while the shouts of guards and servants created a cacophony of confusion that seemed to mock the carefully maintained order of House Drake.
The explosion had torn through the morning silence like a blade through silk, and now its aftermath painted the hallways in chaos.
Servants pressed themselves against walls as the two Supreme Elders swept past, their faces pale with shock and fear. Some bore minor cuts from flying debris, while others simply stood frozen, unable to process what had just occurred within the supposedly secure confines of the estate.
Varian's mind raced as they approached the source of the destruction. Every political calculation, every carefully laid plan now hung in the balance.
