"Gloating beneath a silver moon, the witch stirred her tide-born cauldron."
LADY NERISCA POV
The Emerald Gulf was still humming with the last echoes of the storm. The skies had cleared, but the scent of salt, burnt magic, and power yet unfurled lingered thick in the air. I stepped off the sea-charmed skiff with a measured smile on my lips, my robes brushing across the soaked stone like whispered promises. The guards parted wordlessly, of course, they did. They knew better than to delay me. Prince Zynarion and General Kallion stood by the high terrace overlooking the tide-beaten shore, both cloaked in silence, their gazes locked onto the bruised horizon.
"I assume you saw it," I said, striding up to them, letting the sea breeze carry my words like silk and threat.
Prince Zynarion's eyes were like thunderclouds, dark and charged. "You mean the sky tearing apart? Are the waves trying to claim the coastline? Yes, Lady Nerisca, we saw and witnessed it from afar.
