Ila had ran off back to the village without hesitation.
Lindarion focused again. Fire warmed his skin. Divine stayed quiet. Ice hummed faintly at the back of his teeth.
Somewhere beyond the snowdrift, something moved.
No footsteps.
Just a shift.
Like breath.
Meren stood.
Ashwing growled louder.
Ren tilted her head. "I'll give it five seconds before it jumps out."
Lindarion sighed.
"Of course," he muttered. "A blocked road wasn't dramatic enough."
He stepped forward.
Ardan beside him.
Lira drawing something that absolutely was not just a knife anymore.
"Let's clear the path," Lindarion said, "and see what tries to stop us."
Ashwing exhaled smoke.
Which, all things considered, was optimistic.
—
The snow stopped moving.
Which was weird, considering the wind hadn't.
Lindarion frowned.
'That's never a good sign. First comes the stillness. Then comes the screaming. Then comes the therapy no one gets.'
