Midnight. The Old Ruins, Tyelven.
The night air was cold. Wind from the sea carried the smell of damp moss and the faint sound of waves crashing in the distance. In the grand ruins, cracked and broken marble pillars reached toward the sky. Most of the roof had collapsed, revealing a large, bright full moon hanging above. Moonlight streamed through the large holes in the walls, creating pale patterns on the shattered stone floor.
Fyar stood alone in the middle of the hall. His commoner's cloak fluttered slowly in the wind. His new black hair made him almost blend in with the shadows. he looked up, staring at the moon and the night stars.
Somehow, nature feels clear when the situation is chaotic, he muttered inwardly.
The sound of footsteps on rubble came from behind. Gravel shifted softly.
He's here. Fyar turned around. "You came alone?,"
