"Let's go somewhere else," Thran said.
Kael gave a short nod. The crowd murmured briefly before dispersing, melting back into the village like shadows retreating from dawn.
Soon, only a handful remained.
They gathered in a chamber deep within the settlement—a space that had once been modest but now felt almost regal. Torches flickered along the walls, casting warm, unsteady light across the room. Shadows writhed and coiled in the corners, dancing to a silent rhythm.
The air was thick, heavy with unspoken words. An eerie silence settled over them like a shroud.
The room itself was spacious. Rows of chairs lined both sides, facing inward, each identical in form and function. They stretched from the entrance all the way to the far end, where a single seat sat apart from the rest.
It was unmistakably a throne.
Intricate patterns had been carved into its wood, winding and curling like living vines frozen in time. It commanded the room, demanding attention, demanding reverence.
