Damon, still shaking from the ordeal, scrambled to his feet. His red eyes darted to the others, searching for reassurance, but all he found was silent expectation. He swallowed thickly before reaching into the leather pouch at his waist, fingers trembling slightly as he retrieved a rolled parchment. The moment he unfurled it, a faint glow of deep violet runes flickered across the aged surface, the arcane markings pulsing with restrained power.
"A teleportation scroll," Aria murmured, eyes narrowing as she took in the complexity of the inscriptions. "This is high-tier work."
Damon nodded quickly. "Mal created it. He's… well, he's gotten good at inscription magic. Really good. We've needed something reliable to move our people without being detected."
Riven's eyes flickered with the faintest trace of curiosity. High-tier inscription magic wasn't common. Creating a scroll like this required not only talent, but an incredible amount of mental strength.
