Hannah stood alone, her small frame braced against the gale. She clutched a singular, weathered leather bag—containing nothing but a few changes of coarse servant's clothes.
The sky above suddenly curdled. A shadow, vast and oppressive, blotted out the stars. With a thunderous crack of displaced air, the Clemadead descended.
The beast was a living fortress of scales and malice. As its massive, iron-shod talons slammed into the courtyard, the ground shuddered, sending a vibration through the soles of Hannah's boots that made her teeth ache. The creature let out a low, sulfurous huff, its eyes glowing like dying coals as it looked at her.
