The drop into the western abyss was not a chaotic plummet. It was a perfectly controlled, majestic descent into the very throat of the world.
Lucian folded his massive, brilliantly glowing wings tightly against his back. The God of the Zenith allowed the natural gravity of the planet to pull them downward. The transition from the gloomy, smog choked sky of the canyons into the physical mouth of the massive fissure was violently abrupt. The moment they crossed the jagged stone threshold of the subterranean cavern, the ambient natural light of the outside world completely ceased to exist.
Valeria wrapped her arms securely around Lucian's neck. She pressed her face gently against his shoulder. The environment completely swallowed them. It was an absolute, suffocating darkness that felt entirely different from the cool, precise twilight magic of Silas.
