There were six of them.
And each one stood out in their own unique way.
Sylen was an elf with long silver hair and eyes that were sharp, metallic silver. His gaze was piercing, like it could cut through deception. He exuded an elegance that felt dangerous. His stillness was like a blade poised to strike, waiting for the right moment. He carried himself in such a way that it seemed like he wasn't standing, but hovering, even though his legs were clearly on the ground. Alex had no doubt he would be stupidly fast.
Brakka the Kruckle was an absolute tank—massive, muscle-bound, and built like a wrecking ball. His skin was a dull, stormy gray, and those thick tusks jutting from his jaw made him look like he was born to break things. His shadow alone swallowed half the light in the room, and Alex could practically feel the floor groan beneath his weight.
If there was anyone built to break bones just by breathing… it was this guy.
