In the dark of night, a shadow shifted in an unnatural manner as a man stepped out of it, his face completely hidden. It was unnerving. His movements were subtle, his eyes almost artistic.
A flame flickered in the darkness, pale as death itself, and from it emerged another figure, just a meter away from the shadowed man.
Stepping out of the pale green flame, Rosacer cried out to the shadowed figure, "Gringha, where is she?"
Gringha replied, "She is coming."
He paused for a second, then asked instead, "You, mage?"
Rosacer did not reply.
The silence between them became awkward and heavy.
Amara finally emerged from the darkness as well. She held two pouches in her hands, carefully trying not to jiggle whatever lay inside them.
As she came closer, she tossed the pouches toward Gringha and Rosacer. "Here!"
Without letting the pouches hit the floor, they each caught the one nearest to them.
"Count it. They are exact!" she called out, crossing her arms as she waited.
