The next morning, the Grove shimmered with the soft glow of dawn. Lira sat beneath the Great Tree, the Book open on her lap, humming faintly as if it sensed a new purpose. She ran her fingers over the pages, reviewing the creatures they had rescued. The diggers, the glowing hedgehogs, the root-creatures—all were thriving in their new homes.
And yet… a new pulse began to ripple through the Grove, one she had not felt before. A vibration so delicate it could have been mistaken for the wind through the leaves, but it carried a message unmistakably clear.
The Giant Old Spirit Tree stirred, its massive branches trembling like a whisper in the wind.
"Lira," it said, its voice deep and resonant, "another thread requires your attention. The Fénix—the rare birds of fire and renewal. They are nearly gone from the wilds, and the balance they bring to skies and life is fading. You must find them, and bring a few to the Grove."
