CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELYSIA
The morning air in Celestria nips at my cheeks as we weave our way through the market, the sun barely warming the streets.
Cloaks flap around all of us in the breeze, a mismatched parade of colour cutting through the lively crowd.
The market is already beginning to wake, alive with the scents of fresh bread, sizzling meats, and warm spices drifting from every stall.
Yet beneath all the sweetness and spice, the faint and putrid trace of burnt flesh still clings to the air from last night’s Council pyres.
It curls at the edge of my senses like a phantom refusing to leave, but the people around us seem determined to push past it, their chatter bright and their smiles stubborn.
Cole groans at every loud noise within a ten-foot radius.
“Neytiri, save me,” he mutters dramatically, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “I feel like I am dying. Why is everyone yelling?”
“They’re not,” Brynn replies gently, handing him a small cloth-wrapped parcel from a baker.
Cole peels the cloth back and squints. “What is it?”
“A breakfast bun.”
“I can’t eat solids right now.” He grunts out, going slightly green.
“You drank half of Celestria last night,” Enzo adds, biting into an apple. “I’m surprised you can even walk upright.”