I took a breath that tasted like rust and smoke, held it for a fraction of a heartbeat, then let it hiss out through my teeth. The mist around us, already thick with decaying magic, seemed to deepen in response—as though aware, on some primal level, that I had just committed myself to a course of action far beyond common sense. I wouldn't call it confidence, but I had long ago passed the point where second thoughts mattered. Either we pressed on, or the Tapestry would devour everything.
Asterion glanced at me, perhaps seeking the flicker of hesitation any sane man would show. I offered him nothing but the same cold resolve that guided my every footstep. That, at least, was honest. I'd come too far to indulge illusions of caution. Survival now hinged on forward momentum.
