“Do we take these now?” Ennara pulled the vial of Neverending Breath from the sock stashed at the top of her pack. They had woken at dawn, eaten a quick breakfast of flatbread and cheese, and descended a nearby ravine. Before them lay the giant bay strewn with ruins of the Royal City of Ililsa.
Tork shook his head. “We need to find an underground entrance to the city. We’re certainly not going to swim to the city center.”
The wizard scanned the rocky shore, holding his stave in his right hand. Ruins of stone buildings, a few cobbled roads, and scattered temples littered the rocky beach and speckled the surrounding forest. Wind swept across the rocks, whipping the ends of his cloak. Gevin stood next to the wizard, following his gaze. He hunched his shoulders and buried his hands in his pockets. Kithe kicked at the shale as Ennara tucked her golden hair behind her ears and pulled her wool sweater over her hands.
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