The Green-Eyed Horror of Treeroot Valley
"Step back." King Aurelian's command cut across the valley, deep and biting, thrumming against stone and steel. Each syllable was heavy, command honed from decades of conflict and leadership.
The commanders stiffened, their eyes flashing sharp glances at one another. None of them disobeyed. The front lines of troops reluctantly gave way, moving aside. Hooves rang on the hard ground, metal armor creaked and squawked, and even the banners moved with uncertainty. The valley held its breath, poised.
For an instant, the march was near-serene. Then, at random, the silence broke.
A rage-filled, otherworldly scream tore through the valley like a bolt of lightning. Far above the heads of the soldiers, air itself quivered. Hooves came to a halt. Warriors stiffened, their grips on reins and hilts tightening. Aurelian's blue eyes narrowed at once, attuned to the sense of threat, danger, and anomaly.
And then they saw it.
