Finala flapped her tiny wings gently as they arrived at a cave just outside Elistair. Her gaze landed on Glen Lancaster slumped against the stone wall, barely clinging to life, clearly trying to hide something from the world.
His form wasn't normal anymore. It looked like something else entirely. Thick, glimmering scales had started to emerge across what used to be smooth skin. His once-beautiful golden eyes now glinted like those of a wild animal, savage, unreadable, like he was just waiting for something to pass close enough to pounce on. His body was still his own, mostly. But a horn, curved and jagged, had broken through the side of his head, shining like a spear carved from solid crystal.
He was curled up in the corner of the cave, shaking, gasping for breath like even a mouse could wound him right now.
