When they emerged from the vault, the air itself felt reborn.
The forest was no longer the same Lorienya they had descended through. Every leaf shimmered faintly with inner light, as though dew had turned to captured starlight. The ground beneath their boots hummed softly, an echo of the dormant Heart far below, now threaded through the roots and streams above.
Ashwing hovered, wings half-spread, turning slow circles in the golden air. "Okay… did someone repaint the entire forest while we were gone?"
Nysha's crimson eyes flicked around, sharp and wary. "The mana density has tripled. Every plant, every stone, it's… breathing."
Lindarion didn't answer immediately. His gaze swept the horizon, his golden eyes reflecting a thousand tiny flickers of light. The wind carried faint harmonics, as if a choir of unseen voices sang beneath the rustling of leaves.
"What did you do down there?" Nysha asked at last, voice softer now.
