For another few minutes, we walked in silence. The hush of this land pressed in on my thoughts, reminding me of the Ashen Expanse's dryness, the swirl of illusions that nearly consumed me. Yet here, it felt more like a slow rot, creeping from the ground upward, draining color from everything it touched. I remembered how the Tapestry had flared in those final moments when I tore open a path back. Had I accelerated this decay?
No. The Tapestry's unraveling was in motion well before. Belisarius was the key. Stopping him—or confronting him—was the only real solution. For that, I needed power. Real power.
The road dipped slightly, and a distant shape loomed on the horizon—a broken obelisk, maybe a watchtower from another era. I caught a flicker of something at its base, a faint light that vanished the moment I glanced at it directly. Illusions. Or petty spirits awakened by the Tapestry's tears. I tightened my grip on the strap of my sword's sheath.