The wind howled low and sharp, like the whisper of a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. The leaves rustled frantically above, trembling as if warning of something wicked tearing through the skies.
The Great Storm Tree, towering like a deity carved by nature itself, stood proud and unwavering at the heart of it all, its massive canopy rippling like a sea of green fire beneath the growing tension of the storm.
Kael stood before it, eyes narrowed, head tilted upward, feeling the charged air hum against his skin. His dark clothes fluttered, tugged by the wild wind.
The moon above was already veiled behind drifting clouds that thickened by the minute, and the stars, one by one, blinked out, like frightened children hiding from a monster.
His companions stood nearby, eyes cast toward the sky, their bodies tense. Even Jon and Seth, beings of monstrous size, had their ears folded and tails still.
