words

Emily's hand tensed around the relics, the weight of the stranger's words sinking in like a cold dagger. The figure's grin was unsettling, but there was something deeper behind it—a knowing, an authority over the very objects she held. The air between them thickened, pregnant with an unspoken tension that caused Mara to slowly rest her hand on the hilt of her sword. Calem, usually the voice of caution, was the first to break the silence.

"And what would you know about these relics?" Calem asked, his tone measured but pointed. He straightened, his eyes narrowing at the figure. "Who sent you?"

The figure tilted their head, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Let's just say I have an interest in things of ancient power, much like yourselves." They stepped forward, into the light, revealing a face partially obscured by a dark hood. Their features were sharp, almost predatory, with piercing eyes that locked onto Emily's in a way that made her stomach twist.