Leon stood vigilant, his mystical eyes never leaving Seraphine's trembling form as she struggled to merge with the Seed of Stormlight Heart. The sight before him was both magnificent and terrifying—her body wreathed in crackling white and purple lightning, glowing with an intensity that made the eternal twilight of the dimensional space seem dim by comparison.
A painful grunt escaped her lips, low and strained, cutting through the humming electricity that surrounded her. Her face contorted with effort, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead despite the cool mountain air.
She's struggling, Leon observed, his jaw tightening. Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, to do something—anything—to ease her suffering. His hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to step forward.
But he held himself back.
