Isaac POV
The familiar ripple of mana faded as Isaac stepped out of the black cloud and onto the polished stone floor of a large building.
The ceiling arched high overhead, lit by floating crystal lights that hummed faintly with energy.
Voices filled the air. He could hear conversations, laughter, and the occasional clink of boots or shifting armor.
Isaac's eyes moved across the spacious hall.
He counted roughly forty people. About half of them wore the emblem of the Sanctum of Masters, which was a stylized sage's hat with a slender wand etched beside it.
The others bore the Titan Edge Guild crest, a silver sword crossing a jagged mountain edge.
Both groups mingled in clusters, though there was a clear sense of familiarity within each half.
Some turned when they noticed Celia stepping in behind Isaac.
A few instantly brightened, waving or nodding toward her. Others straightened slightly, eyes narrowing in recognition.
