The sky was calm, a slow wind brushing past as Zayne Creed floated leisurely high above the forests. A few half-eaten snacks rested in his dimensional pouch, and his mood was light.
"It's been four hours since I left Eldrin," he muttered, stretching his arms as if to loosen boredom itself. "Scenery's not too bad though…"
But then, his expression sharpened.
A ripple of energy—hostile, sharp, and unrestrained—flared on the horizon. He tilted his head toward a small village nestled in the valley.
"Well, well… something's headed there."
He drifted slightly higher and saw her.
A woman descending from the skies—stormy-gray hair, gray eyes, beauty carved to perfection—yet her face twisted with fury. She didn't even notice him as she landed in the village square, the air around her heavy with disdain.
The villagers froze, staring in awe.
"Look! She's flying!"
"Is she a Saintess? No—too terrifying…"
"Beautiful… so beautiful…"
The children laughed and pointed, clapping.
