The sun crested over the rooftops of Elandra, casting a golden hue across the cobblestone streets as the city stirred with fresh energy. Market carts rolled into place, shopkeepers lifted shutters, and the scent of baked bread and boiled spice drifted on the early breeze.
At the Adventurer's Guild, Inigo adjusted the strap on his new longcoat, the polished silver badge of Ebon Vanguard catching a glint of sunlight. He stepped into the hall with calm, measured strides, Lyra appearing a heartbeat later behind him—her hood down this time, silver hair unbound and gleaming like starlight.
"You remembered," Inigo said, offering a half-smile.
"You asked," she replied simply, brushing a strand of hair behind one pointed ear.
Elise spotted them immediately and handed over a sealed scroll. "The scouts confirmed intermittent wyvern activity at Windspire Cliffs. It's not a confirmed nest, but something's disturbed the area. Locals won't go near it."
