Ryllie sits on the opposite side of the cave, and I follow, settling beside her.
Eghiss has her eyes closed—she's exhausted.
I close my eyes for a moment.
I watch as Ryllie shifts slightly, glancing at us. She waits, still and patient, listening to our breaths. She doesn't move right away. Instead, she lingers, ensuring we are deep in sleep.
Then, slowly, she rises.
Her movements are careful. Each step is deliberate. She takes her time. Avoiding the loose stones that might give her away.
The cave is quiet. No echoes, no sudden noises. The air carries only the distant hum of the wind outside.
Ryllie moves like a shadow, silent and precise, making her way toward the exit.
As soon as Ryllie leaves the cave, I follow.
She moves swiftly, her steps careful but sure as she lifts off into the sky. I push forward on foot, my body moving faster than I expected. The strain I once felt is gone—the lake that used to slow me down is nothing now. My endurance has grown.
Ryllie soars ahead, cutting through the night air, but I don't let her escape my sight.
"Ryllie!" I call, my voice laced with Var. It echoes across the landscape.
She flinches midair, twisting her head to look down. Her piercing gold eyes catch the moonlight, sharp and unreadable.
Her deep violet hair shifts in the wind, her wings steady as she hovers. The curved horns on her head catch the moonlight, gleaming faintly. She watches me in silence, like she's trying to figure something out.
Then, with a sigh, she drops down, landing a few steps away. Her arms cross tightly over her chest. Annoyance flickers in her eyes.
"What are you doing?" she snaps.
"Following you." I stop just short of her.
She exhales sharply. "Where are you going?" I ask.
She looks away, jaw tight. "I just need time. Space."
I nod and step closer. "Then I'll go with you."
Her golden eyes lock onto mine, narrowed in frustration. "That defeats the point."
"I don't think so," I say.
She huffs, running a hand through her hair. Then, finally, she mutters, "Fine. But if you slow me down, I'm leaving you behind."
I grin. "I won't."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue. With a powerful beat of her wings, she lifts off.
The wind roars around us as we soar over the sea.
Ryllie flies ahead, her movements strong and effortless. I hold on tightly as she carries me, her wings rising and falling in slow, powerful strokes. Each push sends us higher before she dips low, skimming just above the waves.
The ocean stretches endlessly.
She doesn't speak. Her focus stays locked ahead. I watch how the water moves in rhythm with her flight, rippling beneath her as if pulled by something unseen.
Then, on the horizon, land appears.
Jagged cliffs rise from the sea, shrouded in mist. The rock is worn and cracked, its shaped by endless tides. Deeper inland, twisted forests spread in every direction, their roots winding over rough terrain. Further still, mountains loom in the distance, their peaks swallowed by storm clouds.
Ryllie lands at the edge of a vast, open plain. The wind bends the wiry grass, and the air here feels thick, heavy.
The land itself is wild, untouched. Dense forests stretch inland. The trees gnarled and dark, their roots twisting over rocky ground.
Ryllie lands at the edge of a vast, open plain. The grass here is tough and wiry, bent by the constant wind. The air is thick.
I step down as she folds her wings, shaking out her hair. Her golden eyes scan the area, sharp and alert.
"Where are we?" I ask, glancing around.
The land feels different—like the air itself hums with something unstable.
Ryllie doesn't look at me. Her golden eyes stay fixed ahead, scanning the landscape. Her voice is steady when she speaks.
"Omen," she says.
I frown. "Omen?"
She nods. "The Continent of Chaos."
"Why here?" I ask. "Why come all this way?"
She exhales, rolling her shoulders. "I always come here to fight."
I blink. "Fight what?"
She doesn't answer.
I glance around again, the name settling over me like a weight. The air itself feels restless, filled with something unstable, shifting. I remember the core facets of existence—Order, Neutrality, Action, and Chaos. Each one governs how reality holds together, and each Law bends toward one of them.
Chaos isn't just destruction. It's movement without pattern, change without restraint. A place like this—it isn't just dangerous. It's unpredictable. It's unstable.
I exhale, looking back at her. "If we couldn't even beat a bear, I don't think we can fight here."
Ryllie smirks, rolling her shoulders.
"I could've beaten the bear," she says, her tone cocky. "We just weren't allowed to."
I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean we weren't allowed to?"
Ryllie scoffs. "You know the rules. The wolves will punish Kundra for killing it."
I barely catch her words as she mumbles, "And for that, I need to get stronger…"
It doesn't sound like she meant for me to hear.
I cross my arms. "What about the cubs?"
"Silence."