One last time

We arrive at Seraphina's Heart under the cover of night, the great fortress standing tall and silent against the stars, a much-needed sanctuary in this frantic escape. As soon as we enter, Noelle wastes no time changing from his blood-stained clothes, swapping into something warm and comfortable, with sturdy shoes fit for swift movement. I barely have a moment to ensure he's ready before the faint echo of shouts drifts up from outside the gates, warning us that the pursuit is close behind.

Noelle grabs his journal, the one he's never without, the leather worn smooth from his constant use. I catch his eye, giving him a brief nod; there's no time for hesitation now. With purpose in his stride, he rushes down the staircase, and I follow close behind.