Round 38

As Sister Hale reached out to touch the glowing symbol, a sudden chill ran down her spine. Silra's eyes narrowed, her hand tightening around the hilt of her shard as she stepped forward into the corridor. The mist swirled around them like cold smoke, and the air grew colder still, until Hale could see her breath escaping her lips.

The symbol on the wall pulsed brighter now, casting an eerie glow over the stone floor. A faint whispering echoed through the tunnel, the words indistinguishable but the malevolent intent clear. Silra's eyes locked onto the symbol, her mind racing with connections to the key and the rusted magistrate's lock. "This is it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the mist swirling around them.

Hale felt a shiver run down her spine as she watched Silra move closer to the symbol. The cleric's hand instinctively went to the holy symbol at her neck, a comforting presence in the face of the unknown. She took a step forward, her eyes fixed on the pulsing light, and reached out to touch the symbol alongside Silra.