Encora Rise. The approaching aetherrail glid softly into up to the platform, heralded by the shimmering tone of the engines accompanied by a low whoosh of air and the rustle of waiting commuters rising to their feet. The carriage doors slid open, and a robed dark elf stepped off the vehicle, wincing as the afternoon sunlight was cast on his dull, grey skin. Casting an eye over his surroundings, his gaze fell upon the tall man standing alone at the station’s far end, clad in a long, military overcoat, and the elf began to weave his way through the bustling crowd to him.
The elf raised his thin, arched eyebrows. “She didn’t make it.”
The man pursed his lips. “How far did she get?”
“She made it to the aetherrail. As soon as the instructions were unclear she…” Sorn made a fluttering motion with his fingers. “Panicked.”
“Mm. Not as noteworthy as we’d hoped then.”
The man bit his lip and furrowed his brow, weighing the information for a moment. “No matter. There’s others.”
Sorn flashed an eyebrow quickly. “There is.”
“Keep an eye on her. Did you find the text?”
Sorn reached into the folds of his robes before holding up a small, leather-bound tome and then returning it to his breast.
“Excellent. Anything to be gleaned from it?”
The dark elf scratched his forehead and exhaled. “It’s an old Celestial dialect so there’s still more work to be done, but it mentions the final Seal.”
The man did not speak, but widened his eyes, looking at Sorn expectantly.