The corridor outside Kaelen's chambers was dark, the torches burning low, casting long shadows on the stone walls. I walked slowly, my boots echoing in the silence, my heart heavy with the weight of what was to come. Runa had gone ahead to prepare the horses, leaving me alone with my thoughts and with the sister I knew would be waiting.
Elara stood at the end of the corridor, her silhouette unmistakable even in the dim light. Her hands were clasped before her, her shoulders trembling, her face pale. She had been crying; I could see it in the redness of her eyes, the tracks of tears on her cheeks, and the way her lips quivered as she tried to hold herself together.
"Elara," I said, stopping before her.
