The moss beneath their feet was thick and soft, like walking on memory foam. It didn't feel wild or overgrown.
Instead, it felt like it had been shaped over time—tended to, not by hands, but by something older and steadier.
Every step they took caused faint pulses of green and gold to shimmer under the surface, reacting gently to their presence.
Then they saw them.
Roots.
Massive ones.
Not fully exposed above the ground, but close enough that the moss was raised in arches and soft ridges around them.
They curved like the bones of something ancient lying just beneath the surface, sleeping. Faint light—golden and calm—ran through them like veins.
The glow wasn't sharp or flickering. It didn't draw attention with movement.
It just was.
The energy they gave off wasn't aggressive.
It wasn't loud.
But it was there. Constant. Balanced. Steady.
Thalynae walked to the center of the clearing and turned to face them.
