The Missing Days
Have you accomplished your mission?"
The question echoed softly inside the dimly lit inn room.
Lucien Ashdrake sat near the window of the second floor suite, one hand resting against the arm of his chair while the other lightly tapped the wooden table beside him. The golden flame of the lantern reflected against the dark wine inside his glass, making it resemble blood beneath the quiet night.
Outside, Fantom City remained lively despite the late hour.
Carriages rolled through the streets below.
Drunken adventurers laughed loudly somewhere in the distance.
Music drifted faintly from taverns filled with mercenaries and nobles wasting coin.
Yet inside this room, the atmosphere felt suffocating.
Erick lowered his head the moment he heard the question.
