Layered whispers filled the chamber.
"If we say the horizon shifts for every traveler …"
Serena turned away from the lake and the men fighting over her, eyes widening at the question. "Then I answer that the bearing remains unchanged."
The column of white fire hitting the ceiling, shrank back to a regular size. It flared gold.
Aeron clapped once and did a jump.
Alaric snorted and shook his head. "Welcome to Drakenfell." He said it the way a tour guide says it on a bus that just hit a pothole.
Then the whispers rose again.
"Hyran Thornfell."
Hyran jolted at his own name. The most powerful mage across all continents had just flinched like a student called on in class.
Alaric and Aeron looked at one another, both trying not to laugh. Hyran shot them a glare with cat-forced-into-bath-level irritation.
Aeron mouthed the word "relax" at him. Hyran's glare intensified to a level that suggested that was the wrong thing to say.
