The voice echoed within her like a forgotten song — not frightening, but familiar, like the hush of trees before dawn or the weightless drift of dreams just before waking.
Lira's fingers brushed the surface of the silver pool.
It didn't feel like water.
It felt like memory.
The moment her skin met it, the pool glowed. Tendrils of light reached upward, not burning, but cool and alive, wrapping around her wrist and bracelet. Her breath caught — and in the space between heartbeats, her vision blurred.
She was no longer in the chamber.
---
She stood in a vast forest that felt both ancient and unborn. Trees towered like cathedral spires, their bark glowing faintly with flowing sigils. Stars peeked through a shifting sky that was neither day nor night.
Before her, a woman stood — the Verdant One.
She wore robes woven from wind and root, her crown a tangle of antlers and leaves. Her eyes shimmered, green as spring and deep as centuries.
