The stairs spiraled downward, each step lit by the faint blue glow of runes carved into the stone.
The deeper they went, the more the air changed.
The familiar scent of oak, ink, and candle-smoke from Aric's study gave way to something sharper—ozone, iron, and the faint tang of mana discharge.
Lerai led the way, his steps brisk with anticipation. His arms were full of scroll tubes and tools, though none seemed heavy enough to slow him.
Alan followed, every movement careful, controlled, as though ready for the unknown. Aric came last, his presence steady and slow, cloak brushing the stone floor as he descended into his domain of invention.
At the base, the chamber widened into a cavern of stone and steel.
