The air at the northern ridge was thick with the high-pitched whine of mana-engines. Grand Duchess Selena stood at the edge of the metallic boarding ramp of her sleek, obsidian-hulled transport ship, her midnight-blue silk dress rustling against the cold draft drifting up from the trench.
Behind her, inside the cushioned cabin of the vessel, Elara lay motionless on a low couch, her breathing slow and measured under the influence of her mother's sleep-mana.
Selena adjusted the pristine silver clover brooch on her collar, her cold blue eyes scanning the dark edge of the cliff. "Boarding sequence complete," she said quietly into a small communication crystal floating near her ear. "Prepare for atmospheric ascent to the Spire as soon as the Archmages clear the upper seal."
"Not so fast, Duchess."
A quiet, raspy voice carried through the engine noise.
