It had been six days since Grace and Rune entered the Capital. Six long days of blending into the crowds, speaking in whispers, stirring conversations without suspicion, and collecting crumbs of information in a realm where every word could turn into a weapon.
They stayed on the move, switching inns every two days and making sure their disguises never falter. Rune's cloak was rarely lowered, and Grace used subtle illusion charms to shift her appearance just enough to stay forgettable.
But using spells to hide themselves in a Realm built with that very essence of magic, was far from easy.
And even with all their efforts, every lead led them to a dead end.
"They were ghosts," Rune muttered late one night, his frustration clear in his tone. "My team. It's as if the entire realm agreed to erase them."
