"Of course," Orion continued, his voice devoid of warmth, "I will not force the Wood Elves to stay. With a great battle imminent, you are free to leave The Stillness. We will not hold you against your will."
This was, unmistakably, a test.
As more Wood Elf refugees had been rescued, dissenting voices had begun to emerge. The proof was right here in the room. Of the four representatives—Aerin, Xylia, Angel, and the newcomer, Lyra—the reactions were starkly different.
Aerin and Xylia's expressions were grim, but their resolve was unshaken. Angel looked lost, her gaze darting to Xylia for guidance like a rudderless ship in a storm. But Lyra was a different story. The moment Orion mentioned the coming demonic horde, a thick, suffocating dread washed over her face. Her eyes shifted nervously; she was already planning her escape.
