"Trust me," he said, voice low and commanding. "I won't be."
A single spiral rune flared via his mana, carved so subtly into the wall that it had gone unnoticed. The stone began to soften, like wax melting beneath hearth fire. Light bloomed at the edges, pushing the rock aside as though it were nothing more than a curtain waiting to be drawn.
Sylara's breath caught. "You're going to melt through solid rock?"
Draven stood, stepping back. The wall pulsed with energy, coalescing into a translucent barrier. It rippled like heat haze, the surface dancing with silver-blue veins of light. Beyond it lay only darkness—but with that darkness came the faint echo of something alive.
