The words that had echoed through the valley seemed to linger long after the ancient voice itself had fallen silent.
The key has arrived.
For several heartbeats, nobody moved.
The caravan stood frozen upon the road, with the horses shifting nervously beneath their harnesses as the earth continued to tremble faintly beneath their hooves. The mercenaries had drawn their weapons, their earlier casual expressions replaced by unmistakable vigilance, while several of them stared toward Raven's Crossing with expressions that betrayed the first traces of fear.
The afternoon sky remained strangely beautiful above them.
Golden sunlight stretched across the grasslands.
White clouds drifted lazily through the blue heavens.
The river beneath the bridge continued flowing as peacefully as it had moments earlier.
Yet beneath that ordinary scenery...
Something ancient had awakened.
Luca stood beside the carriage with his hand resting firmly upon the hilt of his saber.
