Lana
Something struck from the side—so fast, so silent—that Sylas barely had time to react.
I let out a small gasp as our bodies spun. Sylas hold me tightly into his arms and leapt backward, his dagger already drawn, ready to strike.
But then… he froze mid-step.
"Oh, for gods' sake," he muttered. "Seriously, Kael?"
The night mist thinned just a little… and from within the shadows emerged a tall figure, silver-white hair glinting under the moonlight. His eyes—cold and sharp like daggers—cut through the air. His dark cloak billowed softly behind him.
Kaelith.
He stood right in the middle of the exit path, arms crossed, face expressionless as always—except for his eyes. They were fixed on me. Intently.
I swallowed hard.
Sylas still held his dagger, but didn't attack. Instead, he scoffed and sheathed it again.
"Tch. So dramatic," he muttered. "Did you really show up like some ghostly wraith just to say hi?"
