Its eyes were the only constant: twin rings of pale, luminous gold, spinning in opposite directions like two tiny galaxies caught in orbit.
Ashwing buried himself in Lindarion's collar. "Ohhh no no no—it's looking at us—!"
"It doesn't have eyes," Nysha said through clenched teeth.
"It's LOOKING anyway!"
Lindarion stepped in front of them both.
The Herald tilted its head with an unnatural fluidity, its neck bending too far, its shape rippling with each movement. When it spoke, the voice didn't come from a mouth—there wasn't one. The sound vibrated inside them, like someone plucking a string tied to their bones.
"Bearer of dual resonance… you move against design."
Nysha's breath vanished for a moment. "It's speaking to you directly."
Ashwing peeked. "So kill it, right? Kill it quickly?!"
"No," Lindarion said quietly. "It isn't here to fight."
The Herald drifted closer.
