"Goodbye… my friend."
It was a gentle farewell ... one that soothed the shattered heart of old Shiva, who had no tears left to shed.
"Thank you… thank you…" she whispered, over and over again.
Frey patted her back softly before taking her hand.
"Come with me… and fight at my side once more, Shiva of Thorns. Our battle is not over yet."
At his call, Shiva wiped her tears and bowed firmly ... a response befitting an ancient warrior.
"Until my final breath… I will follow you, my king!"
"I know you will."
Hand in hand, they walked through the corridor, leaving the tomb behind together.
Frey moved slowly making no attempt to hasten his steps or use teleportation.
As though… time itself no longer demanded urgency.
It unsettled Shiva.
Yet she did not question him—she understood that her king had his reasons.
And she was right.
Frey was still stabilizing his existence… rebuilding his Aetheric power from the ground up.
From their pace alone, Shiva realized their destination.
