Round 109

The air in the hidden chamber turned frigid as Seraphine descended the crumbling stairs, her breath misting white before her face. Each step felt precarious—chunks of stone gave way underfoot with alarming frequency, tumbling into the darkness below. The greenish glow from the depths cast everything in an eerie, sickly light that made shadows writhe and dance across the walls.

"Stay close," she hissed to Halie, who followed a few steps behind. "And be ready for anything." Her sharp eyes scanned the chamber's edge, taking in every detail: the intricate binding circles pulsing with malevolent light, the ancient symbols etched into the stone floor, the sheer drop into the yawning chasm.

"Seraphine! Stop!" Jeane’s voice echoed up from below, sharp and commanding. "You can’t just rush in there like an idiot!" The tall winged woman stood silhouetted against the green light spilling up from the depths, her expression stern and worried. Seraphine could see her clutching her staff tightly, ready to cast whatever spells she deemed necessary.

"I know what I’m doing," she called back, though her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. She wasn’t entirely sure that was true—she’d never dealt with anything like this before—but they couldn’t just leave Merrin down there alone. The very thought made her stomach twist with guilt and fear.