"The smallest shift in the air may herald the greatest change in the world."
— Attributed to Armaros, God of Magic

Eryndoriel, Anderwyn
Eighteenth Year of the Fifteenth Cycle, A.D. 

The morning air in Eryndoriel carried a gentle warmth. Raelyn moved at an unhurried pace along the winding paths, the city still brimming with elves that glared at her as she passed. She bit into the last of a ripe peach she had taken from breakfast, the sweet juice catching at her fingertips as she admired the interplay of sunlight and shade across the towering boughs. Her thoughts were already racing ahead to her lesson with Lysa. By the end of yesterday she had felt so close to shaping the wind that her skin still prickled with the memory of it. Today she meant to see it through, but before that she had other matters to attend to.

The sound of metal striking metal drew her from her thoughts. As she passed the open space of the training grounds, her steps slowed. There, in the center of the packed earth, Hovan and Benji circled one another, dulled steel glinting in the sun. Hovan's stance was steady, while Benji's strikes were clumsy.

On the far side, Sylvera lounged with her arms crossed, one boot planted against the edge of the low fence. Raelyn crossed to her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Sylvera tipped her chin toward the sparring pair. "Your handsome friend and the boy have been at it for hours," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Raelyn smirked, her gaze drifting from Sylvera to where Hovan barked a sharp correction at Benji's footing. Benji caught sight of her then, and his face lit up.

"Raelyn!" He trotted over, sword still in hand, and puffed out his chest. "Hovan has agreed to train me."

"I can see that," Raelyn said with a chuckle. "How's it going?"

"It's hard," he admitted, turning towards the approaching Hovan.

"No one said it would be easy," Hovan said, giving Raelyn a nod of acknowledgement.

"I know," Benji said quickly. "And I'm going to work hard."

Sylvera leaned closer to Raelyn, though her voice carried enough for Hovan to hear. "Don't you just love how worked up he gets when he's teaching? Gruff voice, intense eyes... gives me chills." She finished with an exaggerated shiver, her smirk widening when Hovan's jaw tightened.

A faint flush crept up his neck as he ran a hand over the side of his mohawk as he cleared his throat. Raelyn couldn't help but let a quiet giggle slip.

Benji chuckled, but turned to Raelyn. "Oh, and we found a smith who's going to restore my father's sword."

"That's great," Raelyn said, her expression softening. "Your father would have liked that."

Benji's smile dimmed, but his voice was firm. "Yeah. He would have."

Sylvera straightened from the fence, glancing down at Raelyn. "When does your lesson with my sister start? Got time for a quick spar before then?"

Raelyn shook her head with a polite smile. "I can't. I'm expected at the library."

"The library?" Sylvera's brows rose.

"I'm jealous," Benji said. "I doubt any human has ever set foot in there before."

"Do you need me to come with you?" Hovan said, looking down at Raelyn

Raelyn smiled up at him and shook her head. "I've got this,"

Hovan raised his brows for a moment before he smiled. Then he turned back to Benji. "Then we should get back to it."

"You're not the only one with a job to do." Benji gave Raelyn a crooked grin, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. "I'm going to be a proper swordsman before you know it."

Sylvera tipped her head. "Try not to get lost in all those dusty old books."

"I'll do my best," Raelyn said with a laugh.

With that, she stepped away from the ring, the clash of dulled blades and Hovan's commanding voice fading behind her. The path curved past winding bridges and shadowed courtyards until the library's entrance came into view. It was not a building so much as a living colossus: the base of a vast, ancient tree whose trunk split into towering arches. The massive doors between two roots were carved with sweeping reliefs of a winged figure seated at a great desk, quill poised above an unfurled scroll. Around them, lines of script flowed like rivers into the distance, curling into shapes of stars and flowering branches.

Raelyn set a hand against the polished surface and pushed. The doors did not budge. She frowned, shifted her stance, and tried again with more weight behind her shoulder. They yielded with slow reluctance, opening just wide enough to admit her into a wash of warm, parchment-scented air.

She paused just inside the threshold, her breath catching as her eyes climbed higher and higher, following the shelves until they vanished into the shadowed canopy overhead. The sheer scale of it made her feel small.

Stairs of twisted wood spiraled upward into galleries, clusters of moonstones cast their glow over row upon row of ancient tomes. Robed elves passing between aisles with arms laden in books, others bent over tables, quills scratching softly across parchment. Somewhere in the distance, a heavy volume closed with a muted thud.

Her gaze was drawn to the centre of the vast open floor, where a marble statue stood in solitary grace. It was the same winged figure from the doors, captured here in immaculate detail: head bowed over an open book held in one hand, a quill poised in the other. At the base, an inscription read simply: Penemue, God of Art and Literature.

Raelyn lingered on the statue for a moment, a quiet reverence settling over her. It felt less like a library and more like a temple. One where knowledge itself was the religion.

"You're late," came a crisp voice, shattering her reverie.

Raelyn turned to see an elf approaching from between the shelves. His blonde hair was pulled back in a severe tail, and his green and gold robes brushed over the floor as he approached. His posture was straight as a spear, his pale eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

"I—sorry," Raelyn managed, straightening under his gaze. "I'm Raelyn of Kaiswen. The king—"

"I know who you are," the elf said, cutting cleanly across her words. "I'm Tirandil. Guard, steward, and historian of the Great Library. The king has instructed me to assist you with any texts you might require." 

Raelyn's gaze wandered over the labyrinth of shelves again. "It's... overwhelming," she admitted, a small, rueful smile tugging at her lips. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"That will not be your concern," Tirandil replied. "You will not be allowed to roam the library freely." Raelyn's smile faded as her excitement was quenched so abruptly. "You will submit your requests to me, and I will see to it that any approved materials are delivered to your lodgings. You will read them there."

The cool finality of his tone left no room for protest. Raelyn inclined her head. "I understand. Thank you for your help."

"I am only doing as my king commands," he said simply. "What subjects do you require knowledge of?"

Raelyn took a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I need to learn all I can about ancient magic, demons, Lucifer, any weapons forged by the gods, and..." She drew the locket from beneath her cloak, letting the dim light catch on the white metal casing. "this locket."

Tirandil stepped closer, studying it with narrowed eyes before giving a single, thoughtful nod. "It will take time to search the archives, but we will send whatever is found."

Raelyn began to tuck the locket away, then paused. She bit her lip and hesitated before she worked up the courage to speak again. "Also... any records you have on reptiles across Unevia."

Tirandil lifted a single brow. "Reptiles?"

"Yes," she said, trying to sound confident.

The elf paused, but eventually inclined his head. "Very well."

"Thank you," Raelyn said, letting out breath.

"We will be in contact," Tirandil replied, stepping past her with the quiet swish of robes on polished wood.

Raelyn lingered a moment longer, letting her eyes sweep the vastness of the library once more before turning toward the doors. The lesson with Lysa awaited, and now, so did the promise of answers.

☾⟡✦ 𓆩 ❖ 𓆪 ✦⟡☽

The wind pushed back against her again. It swirled in loose, stubborn currents, brushing over her fingertips only to slip away. Hours had passed in the clearing, each attempt ending the same, and now her arms ached from holding them aloft for so long. Her breath rasped, her throat burned. She could feel that elusive point where the wind almost yielded, but the moment shattered every time she reached for it. Her palms prickled from strain. Sweat dampened her hair causing a pale strand to cling stubbornly to her cheek. She filled her lungs and raised her hands once more. 

"Valo." 

The word left her lips, and for a heartbeat the wind seemed to obey, but then slipped away again. Her fingers flexed involuntarily, nails biting into her skin. Her shoulders sagged, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste copper. The earlier spark of certainty flickered, thinning with every failed attempt.

Lysa approached with her lips pressed into a thin line. Raelyn passed her a quick glance before she steadied her stance, rolling her shoulders back. "Again—"

"Wait." Lysa said.

Raelyn sighed and turned to the elf . "I can try again—"

"Not yet."

The Veyari's green eyes held steady on Raelyn, her auburn hair catching threads of sunlight. 

Letting her arms drop, Raelyn turned toward her, confusion knitting in her chest. "I was close. I can do it this time."

"I know you can," Lysa said. "But something's holding you back."

Raelyn's shoulders slacked. "I'm really trying—"

"I know." Lysa said, softer this time. She tilted her head, studying Raelyn for a moment. Raelyn shifted her weight. She wasn't sure if she should speak, or  what Lysa was expecting of her.

Finally Lysa asked, "Tell me, who are you?"

Raelyn frowned and let out a short, awkward laugh. "You know who I am."

"Humour me," Lysa said, unsmiling.

Still frowning, Raelyn hesitated. "I'm Raelyn of Kaiswen."

Lysa shook her head. "That is your name, and where you are from. Who are you?"

Raelyn stared at Lysa and shrugged, shaking her head. Her hands worried at the hem of her tunic before she forced them still. "I'm... a maid from Ardesco," she said at last.

"That is what you used to do," Lysa replied gently.

Raelyn let out a long breath through her nose. "I'm a magus?"

One of Lysa's brows lifted. "Are you asking me, or telling me?"

Raelyn drew herself up a fraction, shoulders stiffening. "I'm a magus," she said more confidently.

"Perhaps that is part of who you are," Lysa said. "But not all."

Raelyn's teeth caught her lower lip. There was a part of her that she had kept hidden from Lysa and the other elves. A part of her she wasn't sure she should share. But she had to trust Lysandra and her teaching methods. "People think I'm cursed," she murmured. "Because of my white hair."

That stilled Lysa. Her head tilted, eyes narrowing. "And do you believe you're cursed?"

Raelyn's throat worked as she swallowed. "I didn't used to," she admitted. "There was a time I wanted to prove them all wrong. I thought if I could just... do something with my life, they'd see me differently." She hesitated for a moment, then lowered her gaze. "But now, I'm not so sure."

"What makes you say that?" Lysa asked.

Raelyn's eyes burned. She blinked hard, but it didn't stop the ache tightening behind them. "People seem to keep dying around me," she whispered. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, unwilling to meet Lysa's eyes.

The Veyari nodded and inhaled slowly. They were quiet for a moment before Lysa spoke again. "I think I know what's keeping you from making the connection."

Raelyn forced herself to look up, her voice raw. "What?"

"You." Lysa stepped closer. "When I ask who you are, you answered only with the views of others. You carry their opinions inside you as if they were your own." She placed a hand on Raelyn's shoulder. "Once, you wanted to break free of them. You wanted to carve your own path. But now that the moment has come... you wonder if you deserve it."

The words struck something raw inside her. Raelyn's breath hitched, as years of disdain and abuse flooded her mind. Each voice had pressed into her until she could no longer tell where their judgment ended and her own thoughts began. 

"Raelyn," Lysa said softly. "You are brave for what you've done. Strong, for all you have endured. Kind and clever." Her green eyes stayed on Raelyn as her lips curled into a gentle smile. "You are not cursed by the gods. You are blessed with a gift most could only dream of." The hand on Raelyn's shoulder gave a soft squeeze. "You need only accept it."

Raelyn's chin trembled, her chest rising unevenly. Her fingers sought the locket at her neck, curling around the cool metal. Heat pricked at the corners of her eyes, a pressure she refused to let spill. She forced her shoulders back, drawing herself taller, but the tremor in her throat betrayed her struggle.

For a moment she closed her eyes, steadying herself in the hush of the clearing. Then, slowly, she exhaled and lifted her chin. "You're right." The words slipped out fragile, barely more than a whisper.

She took a steadying breath. "I am Raelyn of Kaiswen. Carrier of Lucifer's locket. Wielder of ancient magic." Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, every word she spoke felt like a weight off her shoulders. "And one day, I will find the weapon left by the gods and do my part in saving Unevia."

Lysa's smile broke wide, warm and fierce. She clapped her hands together, the sound ringing bright in the stillness. "Yes, Raelyn. That is absolutely right."

The words washed over her, and for the first time Raelyn felt something loosen inside. The gnawing doubt, the fear of failing again, had eased. Her chest rose with a steadier breath, the air moving through her lungs as though it, too, had finally yielded.

"The bond with nature cannot be made when your heart is clouded by doubt or self-loathing." Lysa touched her own chest lightly, pausing there, giving the words time to settle. "The connection begins here... and only then moves outward."

The elf gave Raelyn a nod before she turned and took a few steps back. "Now, let's try again. But this time, know with every part of you that you can."

Raelyn took in a slow breath and closed her eyes. The world narrowed to the rhythm of her breath and the faint breeze brushing over her skin. As she reached for her medial, Raelyn pushed away any lingering doubt. She could do this. The flickering reservoir of energy stirred, rising toward her throat.

Her lips parted. "Válo."

A gust swept through the clearing, rushing across the moss with startling clarity. It rippled the grass in waves and sent the leaves skittering upward into a spiral. Raelyn's eyes flew open, her pulse racing, hands trembling.

"I did it!" she gasped, a breathless laugh escaping her lips. She turned to Lysa, smiling from ear to ear.

The Veyari gave a short squeel and clapped her hands together. "Well done, Raelyn!" she said, but her smile started to fade.

The breeze thickened, building upon itself. Raelyn's white hair lifted in the currents, tugging across her face. The edges of her cloak flared and snapped. Leaves tore loose from the underbrush, joining the spiral until the air was filled with their whirling shapes.

Raelyn's smile faltered. "Lysa?" she asked, uncertain.

The gale swelled again, a wild force pulling at her clothes, bending the branches overhead. The trees creaked under the strain, their roots groaning in the soil. The spiral thickened into a vortex, a whirlwind clawing up into the open sky.

"Raelyn!" Lysa's voice rang sharp across the clearing. Gone was the patient calm; this was command. "Sever the connection!"

Raelyn stumbled back, arms raised at the very storm she had birthed. "I—I don't know how!" The words tore from her throat, shrill against the howl of the wind. The magic surging inside her felt wild and merciless. She clutched at her chest, desperate to hold it in, but the torrent would not be bound.

"Breathe!" Lysa braced herself against the gale, hair whipping across her face, voice cutting through the chaos. "Reclaim control. Focus on the flow of magic and draw it back into yourself."

Raelyn dropped to her knees, fingers digging into the ground for purchase as the whirlwind dragged at her. Her breath came shallow, ragged. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the terror clawing up her throat. 

Raelyn forced her breath deeper, anchoring herself against the storm with every inhale. She could feel the torrent of power spilling loose, magic pouring from her medial in an unchecked stream.

Teeth clenched, she searched for the breach inside herself, the place where her control had slipped. When she found it, the effort nearly buckled her. She drew against the current, pulling the wild magic back toward its source, coaxing it inward. The torrent strained and fought, but little by little its fury dimmed.

The vortex outside began to falter, its edges fraying. Leaves no longer spun but drifted, branches sagged back into stillness. The storm that had roared with such force unraveled thread by thread, until the clearing held only the whisper of air.

Raelyn opened her eyes. The clearing lay wrecked, bushes torn from the soil, the earth scattered with a wild carpet of leaves. The trees leaned, roots exposed where the wind had bitten deep. The lake, untouched, reflected the still sky.

Her body trembled, her breath ragged. She wiped a shaking hand across her brow and turned to Lysa. "I—I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop," Lysa cut in gently, crouching beside her. "This is what training is for. Mistakes are just part of the process. What matters is that you brought it back under control."

"I almost didn't," Raelyn admitted, her words breaking on the edge of her breath. She pressed a hand to her chest. "It... it was too strong. I didn't know it could get so far out of hand."

"I am to blame for that," Lysa said quietly. "The bond usually severs itself when a novice loses focus. But perhaps the raw power of ancient magic does not follow the same rules."

Raelyn's throat tightened. The thought of it surging loose again, devouring control she barely grasped, sent a shiver crawling down her spine. "What if it happens again? What if next time I can't stop it?"

"That is why we are out here," Lysa reassured, gesturing around them. "Outside Eryndoriel. Far from where your magic could do harm. And you are not alone, Raelyn. I will always be here to step in if needed. Nothing will reach beyond this place."

Raelyn clung to the reassuring words and slowly steadied her breath. "Thank you."

Lysa's expression softened, a flicker of a smile broke through. "Do you realize what you've done?" she asked, the smile growing. "You just performed your first spell. Raelyn, you are officially the first soul in Unevia to wield more than one kind of magic."

Raelyn blinked. The fear had been so sharp, so overwhelming, that it had smothered her short lived victory. Her lips curled in the smallest of smiles. "I did, didn't I?"

"You did," Lysa said firmly. "Do you see what you can be capable of when you believe in yourself?"

Raelyn held her gaze and nodded, the trembling in her hands finally beginning to ease. "Then I'll try," she murmured. "I'll try to be more confident."

"That's all I ask." Lysa eased herself down onto the grass, folding her legs beneath her. She patted the ground in front of her until Raelyn followed, still rubbing the stiffness from her arms.

"Before we continue, I need to teach you about severing the connection." Her tone made Raelyn sit straighter despite her fatigue.

"Elven magic is delicate," Lysa went on. "It's... a bond we weave with the world around us. Usually this bond can be broken through a loss of focus, but a connection has two ends through which magic flows." She let the words linger, giving Raelyn a moment to absorb them.

"You've seen first hand what happens when magic continues to flow and nature runs rampant with it." She let out a slow breath, shaking her head. "More violently, it seems, with ancient magic."

Raelyn thought of the whirlwind tearing leaves into the sky, of her chest clenching in panic as the storm roared on without her will. "So how do I sever it fully?" she asked.

"It's like closing a door behind you," Lysa explained. "When you perform a spell you open a doorway to your medial, through which the magic takes shape. Once nature has performed your desired effect, you close that doorway and end the connection."

Raelyn nodded slowly. The explanation settled into her like a stone dropped in water, rippling outward until it touched everything she had just lived through. "I think I understand."

"Good," Lysa said as she rose to her feet, brushing grass from her hands. She looked down at Raelyn expectantly, waiting until Raelyn pushed herself up as well, legs still unsteady beneath her.

"This time," Lysa continued, "we'll keep it simple. The only focus will be on ending the connection. Once you've mastered that, we'll move to controlling the element."

Raelyn drew a breath and held it, letting the quiet of the clearing steady her. The memory of the storm still clung to her chest, yet beneath it lived another truth. She had lost control, yes, but she had used elven magic. For the first time, she felt no doubt that she could channel the power of the gods. What remained was learning how to shape it, how to master it, one step at a time.

Her lips curved faintly as she lifted her chin toward Lysa. She rolled her shoulders and planted her feet firmly in the ground. "I'm ready."

Lysa's smile bloomed. "That's the spirit."

☾⟡✦ 𓆩 ❖ 𓆪 ✦⟡☽

Raelyn pushed the door open to her lodgings, her shoulders sagging. Her boots dragged across the floor, yet a small smile tugged at her lips all the same. The training had drained her, yet her chest hummed with excitement.

Hovan was stretched out on the bed across the room, boots set neatly beneath the frame. He sat up when she entered. Before he could speak, a flurry of movement came from the corner. Rakz darted out from under her blankets, claws clicking against the wooden floor as he rushed toward her.

A laugh slipped from Raelyn as she stooped to scoop him up. "Missed me, huh?" she murmured, cradling him close. The little creature answered with a string of chirps, his tongue darting out to lick at her cheek. "Did you have a good time with Ruthie today?" she asked, nose brushing against his scaled head. Rakz gave another eager trill, wriggling in her arms.

"Well," Hovan said, folding his arms as he leaned forward, "how did it go?"

Raelyn felt the warmth in her cheeks before the words even left her. "I managed to perform a spell today," she said proudly. "Not once, but a few times. I think I'm finally starting to get better at it."

Hovan's lips curled into a rare smile, his dark eyes steady on her. "I never doubted you."

She swallowed the knot that tightened unexpectedly in her throat and offered him a quiet, "Thank you."

"While you were gone some elves came by," Hovan went on, gesturing toward the table near the window. "Brought these for you."

Raelyn followed his nod and spotted the neat stack of books piled high. She crossed the room and trailed her fingers across the embossed letters. The top book bore the title Fables of Gods and Goddesses. A part of her wanted to sit down then and there, to continue the progress she had made that day, but her body ached with every minor movement. She would not take in a thing tonight.

"I'll start researching tomorrow," she said over her shoulder. "When my eyes can stay open."

"I'll help you," Hovan offered, his tone casual.

Raelyn turned back to him with a faint grin. "You? I didn't take you for a scholar."

Hovan put a hand over his chest, feigning insult. "I'm not just a pretty face," he said with a smirk.

Raelyn let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she unfastened the clasp of her cloak. "Sylvy certainly seems to think so," she teased lightly, walking back to her bed.

The grin on Hovan's face faltered. "Sylvy just likes to wind me up," he muttered. "That's all it is."

Raelyn bent to tug off her boots, setting them side by side beneath the bed. "I think you're wrong," she said, brushing loose strands of hair back from her face. "I've seen the way she looks at you."

Hovan's expression tightened. He settled back down against his pillow, staring at the ceiling. "You remember what Elowen said," he replied, his voice quieter now. "Elves don't get drawn to humans. Especially not ones that look like me." His hand ghosted over the scar that cut from the top of his head down to his temple.

Raelyn paused in folding her magus robes, her fingers lingering on the fabric. With the robes set neatly at the bedside, she was left in the long shirt she had worn beneath them, the hem brushing her knees. The sight of him pinched at her chest. She softened her tone. "You sell yourself short, Hovan," she murmured carefully. "You have so much to offer. Sylvy would be lucky to have you."

His jaw flexed, but he didn't look at her. "Drop it, Raelyn."

The firmness of his words left no room for argument, and she nodded, letting the silence settle as she shifted Rakz into the crook of her arm and lowered herself onto the edge of the bed.

From around her neck she drew out the locket. Her thumb traced its crown before she turned it over to the back. Rakz curled up beside her, a soft warmth against her side. The rings clicked faintly as she began to twist them in her nightly ritual, the steady movement calming her thoughts.

But the rhythm felt different. The resistance of the metal shifted beneath her fingertips, smoother, as if the locket itself wanted to guide her hand. Slowly, faint shapes began to take form in the grooves. Her brows furrowed in concentration, each twist pulling the image closer, the lines almost aligning but never quite locking into place. Rakz chirped curiously, tilting his head.

Then, with one final turn, a soft click sounded. Raelyn froze. Heat bloomed against her palm. Her heart stuttered, then raced as a glow spread across the locket's surface. The emerging shape pulsed with faint light. She sat upright, breath caught in her throat.

"Raelyn?" Hovan's voice came low from his bed. He had pushed himself up on his elbows, his face shadowed in confusion. "What is it?"

Her gaze never left the locket. "Something's happening." Her voice wavered with disbelief. 

Hovan swung his legs over the side of the bed and crossed the room to sit beside her. Together they watched as the glow steadied, forming into a symbol: a spiral encased in a circle, with a single line cutting across, reaching toward the locket's center. Beneath it, faint words shimmered into being.

Raelyn scarcely dared to breathe, afraid the vision would vanish if she blinked. Rakz clambered onto her arm, stretching toward the light with a soft trill, his eyes gleaming with reflected glow. "There's a symbol," she whispered. "And something written underneath." She leaned closer, squinting her eyes. "Path of Veiled Eternity."

Hovan studied the markings, his brow drawn tight. Raelyn's eyes flicked to him. "Do you know what it means?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. It doesn't mean anything to me. But..." His gaze lingered on the glowing symbol. "It feels important. Likely a way toward the weapon. If nothing else, it's the first real sign pointing us somewhere."

Her heart hammered, the glow seeming to pulse in rhythm with it. "So you think it's a clue?"

"It has to be," Hovan said, his voice steadier now. "We may not know what it means yet, but at least we finally have something tangible."

Raelyn pressed her lips together, still staring at the locket. "It can't be that simple, though. This is just one part of the puzzle," she said, her fingers trailing the rest of the locket. "Most of the rings are still out of place. There's so much more to uncover."

Hovan leaned back a little, though his eyes never left the faint glow. "Maybe. But if anyone can sort through the rest of it, Raelyn, it's you."

She let out a breath. "There must be something in the library. Tirandil has access to more records than anyone else here. Maybe the phrase is written down somewhere, in a history or a map."

Hovan gave a short nod. "That's a good idea. Put in a request tomorrow, first thing. We'll make sense of it."

Raelyn's lips curved faintly, though her chest still thrummed with restless energy. She closed her fingers around the locket, the warmth lingering against her palm. "Tomorrow," she agreed.

Hovan gave a small nod. "Get some rest, Raelyn. I'd say you've earned it."

Rakz gave a curious chirp and pawed at her sleeve. Raelyn stroked his back absently, exhaustion slowly settling into her bones. Yet weariness could not dim the fire stirring within her. Two breakthroughs in one day; her first elven spell, and now the locket yielding its first secret. For the first time since they had begun this journey, the goal no longer seemed like a distant dream. The path was still shrouded, but at long last, she could see its edges. The answers were no longer beyond reach. And this was only the beginning of their time here in Eryndoriel. What more would they uncover before they move on?