Nalrond refused to believe that Mogar could be playing such a cruel joke on him and took flight to reach the distant source of those painful signs of life. He didn't care about leaving the others behind nor about them yelling for an explanation.
He crossed the few kilometers separating him from the ruins of his village in a few minutes, but not even all the spells he had woven in the case Dawn had returned to take the Fringe as her own could prepare him for what he found.
Houses instead of ruins and people instead of undead. The exhaustion from the long travel and one shock too many made him faint, plunging to the ground with the grace of a boulder.
***
Jiera continent, Fenagar's lair, outside the city of Reghia.
Fenagar the Leviathan, Zagran the Garuda, and Roghar the Fenrir sat together at a round table for the first time in a long while. All pieces of furniture were made from a single dead branch of the World Tree.
