Just then—
As everyone stood frozen, unsure of what to do next, Feylora suddenly stepped forward. Her voice was soft, but there was a quiet strength behind it.
"My Lord… maybe I can try."
Ethan blinked, surprised. His gaze shifted to her. "You? Why you?"
Feylora took a deep breath. Her eyes shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and strange swirling patterns—like ancient runes—began to form in her pupils. They pulsed with a deep, natural energy, like the heartbeat of the Feywild itself.
Ethan's brow furrowed. His heart skipped a beat.
That power… he'd felt it before.
It was the same energy that had been radiating from the Skyfiend woman—the power of the Fey Sovereign. But in Feylora, it was different. Purer. Calmer. Stable.
Then it hit him.
The Skyfiend's power was twisted, violent—clearly stolen. But Feylora's? It resonated with the world around her. The very air seemed to respond to her presence.
This wasn't theft.
This was inheritance.
