For several seconds after the temple doors slammed shut, nobody moved.
The sound echoed through the valley.
Once.
Twice.
Then silence returned.
John stood frozen with the broken wooden dragon still in his hand.
The golden glow had disappeared.
Only a thin crack remained across the little carving.
Lythriel was the first to speak.
"...What did it mean?"
John didn't answer.
He was still staring at the temple.
*The blood has returned.*
The words repeated themselves in his mind.
What blood?
Why him?
And what exactly had returned?
Commander Gareth stepped forward.
"Everyone stay calm."
His voice was firm enough to bring the expedition back to reality.
"Guards, secure the entrance."
Several guards moved toward the temple, but Gareth stopped them before they touched the doors.
"Don't touch it."
The guards stepped back.
Darius approached slowly.
His face had lost its usual calm expression.
"Commander."
"I heard it."
Gareth nodded.
"So did I."
"The figure."
