C58 Fire Beneath Stone
The woman in gray stepped forward, her eyes gleaming in the brazier’s light.
She was older than Tera expected—not withered, but worn, as though time had carved her gently rather than broken her. Her hair, streaked with silver, was bound in a simple braid. She carried no weapon, wore no sigil.
“Name?” Tera asked, cautious.
“I go by Ilyra,” the woman said
