The morning sun poured through the arched windows of Silver Wing, painting pale gold patterns across the polished marble floors. Shellia sat cross-legged on the balcony, her mint-green hair loose around her shoulders. Her eyes stared at nothing, a quiet storm rolling behind them. She still hadn't recovered from the conversation about Allen, yet the entire wing could feel her emotions humming in the air like distant thunder.
A soft flutter broke the silence. A white pigeon, wings shimmering faintly with a courier's spell, swooped through the open balcony door and landed neatly on the railing in front of her. It wore a tiny scroll tube around its neck. Shellia blinked, then slowly reached out. The bird tilted its head, as if aware of the weight of its message.
"What now…?" she murmured and untied the scroll. As soon as she unrolled it, golden runes lit up across the parchment.
