When Damon heard Matia's familiar cold voice he felt relieved. He let out a shaky sigh as he glanced in their direction. By Damon's side two people had appeared.
A woman in black armor made of shattered ice stood with her shoulders tight, a freezing chill following her.
There was a wave of killing intent in her eyes directed at the Archivist; however, she must have realized she could not touch the warden of the library.
Her hands lingered on her sword, her cold blue eyes flaring dangerously.
The second was a toddler in gaudy black robes made of pure darkness. He looked chubby and adorable, yet his eyes held deep profundity. He clasped his hands behind his back as he looked at Damon.
There seemed to be an ancient and divine elegance to him, as if there was a purity and solemnness to his otherwise cute form.
