"We're here."
By the time the carriage slowly came to a stop., Cherion already knew this place had bad vibes. Not just because of the cold, though yeah, the air felt like it could slice skin, but because of the silence.
Not peaceful silence. Not "aww, how serene" silence.
No.
This was the kind of silence that said: turn around while you still can.
He stepped out, his boots sinking into a thin crust of frost that crunched underfoot. The Valtrane cemetery sat in a natural dip in the earth, like the ground had just… given way at some point. To reach the graves, they had to walk down a set of wide stone steps that disappeared into a stretch of grey mist.
Cherion pulled his cloak tighter, exhaling a puff of breath that looked suspiciously ghost-like. Well, he thought, suppressed a shiver that was only half-about the cold, cemeteries aren't exactly lively no matter where you are.
Ahead of him, Zarius was already moving. Less "grieving son," more "general inspecting a war zone."
