Night fell over Eldrath like a heavy blanket, swallowing the last traces of orange and pink from the sky. The streets had grown quieter, but the patrols hadn't lessened. If anything, there were more elves walking the cobblestone paths now, their glowing mana lamps casting long shadows against the buildings.
Jason pressed his back against the cold stone wall of the elder's hut, peering through a crack in the wooden shutters.
"They're still out there," he whispered.
Ylva stood behind him, Thalion's frail body draped across her shoulders. The elf's breathing was shallow, his silver hair hanging like wet rope, but his eyes were open. Barely.
"I can... I can help," Thalion murmured, his voice cracking. Every word seemed to cost him something. "J-just... give me a m-moment."
Jason turned to look at him. "You can barely stand, man. What are you going to do?"
