Elora appeared in front of the auction house—or what was left of it. The ice had melted, leaving a thin mist hanging over the surroundings and puddles of water mixed with mud and blood.
She stood in front of it, watching the wandering souls of those massacred in the auction house float around in a dazed confusion.
They hadn't gotten used to the fact that they were dead and could only wander around the area of their death—it would take them two days for reality to sink in.
Elora couldn't wait that long and tore through the secrets in their minds. A black mist swallowed the white mist, sinking eerily into their floating souls. They froze in place as if a pause button had been pressed, then let out blood-curdling shrieks as the air around her grew colder.
Elora didn't flinch or get distracted by the noise, but closed her eyes, her mind flitting through theirs for useful information.
Minutes passed, and the more she saw, the darker her expression grew.
