By the time they reached the first great root bridge of Lorienya, the sun had fully risen. From above, the towers and platforms gleamed between leaves, serene, unaware of the battle that had just taken place beyond their sight. Lindarion paused one last time, looking back at the forest edge.
The peace felt thinner now, like a veil stretched over glass.
He could feel the world breathing unevenly.
And somewhere far to the south, something answered that breath with a pulse of its own.
—
The forest greeted Lindarion with silence when he landed. Not the tranquil hush he had grown used to in Lorienya, but the watchful kind, the quiet before a question is asked.
Ashwing folded his wings and shrank back to his smaller form, settling on Lindarion's shoulder, the faint scent of ozone still clinging to his scales.
