Elenara lifted a hand, and with the motion the garden shifted—branches parting, light dimming slightly as if the space itself was drawing inward. When she spoke, it was no longer in abstractions or principles, but in facts.
"They are entrenched in their primary seat," she said. "From the outside, it presents itself as a conventional fortress. Stone walls. Towers. Defensive symmetry meant to reassure observers."
Her lips curved faintly, without humor.
"That image is a lie."
She turned, meeting Valttair's gaze directly. "The Thal'zar do not inhabit halls. They burrow. What stands above ground is only a shell. Beneath it lies an endless network of tunnels—interlocking passages, chambers, and layered corridors carved over generations. A living warren."
Valttair listened in silence, his expression unchanged.
