The Demon Becomes Breathless.

The moon hung high in the sky, its light brilliant and luminous, yet cold and distant.

But in Erevos, its beauty was marred. The people here saw only a hazy curtain of miasma that veiled the heavens.

The moon itself seemed less celestial and more like a demon's unblinking eye, casting an eerie glow over the desolate streets.

Verayth walked briskly through the gloom, her steps echoing against the cobblestone paths like faint whispers.

she had made it to the butcher's shop just before it closed.

And at the moment, her hands clutched a small pouch of copper coins, the jingling sound faint against the silence of the night.

Her expression was a blend of relief and weariness, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"This isn't much," she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves. "But it should be enough for one horse… even if it's not a good one."