The air was thick, dense with the oppressive weight of ancient magic and sulfurous fumes. Daena wrinkled her nose in distaste as she stepped cautiously over the uneven obsidian ground. Each step seemed to echo as though the Rift itself were laughing at her.
"Nyssara, I'm starting to think this is a colossal waste of time," Daena muttered, her glowing violet eyes scanning the jagged horizon for any sign of life or unlife.
Beside her, Queen Nyssara, the ever-graceful, ever-wise consort of the Demon Queen, glided effortlessly over the treacherous terrain. Her silvery-white hair glimmered faintly in the gloom, as if mocking Daena's perpetually grumpy demeanor.
Nyssara raised an elegant eyebrow, her lilac eyes sparkling with amusement. "We haven't even been here an hour, Daena. You're already complaining?"