Archer and Ophelia were sitting in front of a colored window, allowing the duo to see the snow covering the shield that protected her garden. He turned to the older woman, a curious expression appearing as he asked. ''Do you need anything? Food? A well?''
''I have one out back and my magic,'' she responded, beaming at his offer. ''And food is fine, I have a basement full of stuff to survive through the Long Winter.''
After speaking, Ophelia stood up and continued. ''Now let me cook us that meal, it's getting colder and the fire won't keep it out forever.''
Just then, a Mana Storm unlike any other roared to life above, a clap of thunder shattering the peace, a wave of raw energy surging across Draconia —a tide that seemed to drown the very essence of the world. Archer staggered, his breath catching in his throat as the thread of mana that fueled his body snapped like a rope.
