The first light of dawn broke across the desolate landscape of the Crimson Wastes, casting long shadows across the barren earth. Lyra, Victor, and Sylvia stood at the edge of their makeshift camp, the cold air biting at their skin as they prepared to continue their journey. The night had been restless, the chill of the wasteland making it difficult to sleep, but they were ready to move forward.
Sylvia turned to Lyra, her eyes filled with a hint of exhaustion. "I need to rest," she said, her voice soft. "The strain of maintaining this form is… more than I anticipated. I'll return to your soul for now."
Lyra nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need."
Sylvia gave a small, grateful smile before her form began to dissolve into a mist of green light, the energy flowing back into Lyra. Lyra felt the familiar warmth as Sylvia returned to her soul, a sense of connection and comfort settling within her.
