Ria shifted slightly on the frozen log, her dark blue dress rustling against the frost-bitten bark. The pale moonlight caught the sharp, metallic gleam of the dark glass artifacts they had brought back from the trial—the Black Swan seals that now dictated their fate.
"However, it is not just a simple beat-em up," said Ria, her voice cutting through the soft whistling of the night wind. "The Black Swan that we retrieved will be the deciding factor whether we win or not."
Lexel turned his head toward her, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly under the shadow of his brow. His massive, silver-gauntleted hand instinctively tapped against his waist, feeling the faint, rhythmic hum of concentrated aether pulsing within the dark glass.
"You're saying?" asked Lexel, his deep voice carrying a quiet, analytical edge.
