Cyra hovered gracefully above the scorched battlefield, her fiery wings beating softly against the night breeze. She regarded me with a mixture of awe and concern.
"That was quite an impressive display of power, Barrett," she said, her voice monotonous as always.
I scoffed, still simmering with anger at the creature that had delayed our journey. "Yeah, well, it doesn't change the fact that this blasted wyrm almost cost us valuable time. Let's not waste another moment here."
I took off through the forest, my heart set on reaching the palace as swiftly as possible. Cyra followed close behind, her wings effortlessly carrying her through the night sky. We weaved through the dense foliage, our path illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the canopy above.
The memories of my mother's face, the pain she endured when those arrows pierced her back, drove me forward. I couldn't bear the thought of her suffering, and I knew that every second counted.
