Immortal Elyon appeared back in the mortal realm with Arnin. They were standing in the exact spot where they had vanished earlier. Time, however, had not stood still. Days had passed in the mortal realm, and much had changed in their absence.
"Arnin, do not blame me," Elyon said, his voice low but resolute.
"However, I know you hold something tied to Bain. I am not crazy," he continued as he turned toward Arnin. Yet, to his shock, Arnin was no longer there.
His eyes widened as he quickly scanned the bustling crowd around him, searching for any trace of Arnin. "How did he slip away without me noticing?" Elyon thought, his frustration mounting.
Just then, a familiar voice broke through the noise.
"Master."
Elyon turned sharply toward the sound, his gaze landing on Nameless, who stood at the edge of the crowd, a sack slung over his shoulder—the same one that had once carried gold coins.
