The streets of Ravenport were still slick from last night’s storm. Neon signs flickered and reflected off puddles, painting the alleys in shifting hues of violet, gold, and green. Rain dripped from broken signs and ledges, forming tiny rivers along the cracked sidewalks. The city hummed with the quiet rhythm of waking life: distant engines, hurried footsteps, and the low thrum of magic pulsing beneath the neon glow.

Elara pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her pendant warm against her chest. The first taste of freedom had exhilarated her, but she knew there was no time to linger in wonder. Danger lurked here, in the twisting alleys and shadowed corners of the city, and their mission was urgent.