The aftermath of Jaenor's awakening left an eerie stillness hanging over the ruined Ki'thara village. Smoke still rose from scattered fires, and the massive crater where he'd unleashed his power continued to emit faint wisps of steam. The destruction was comprehensive—what the Blaedred assault had begun, Jaenor's transformation had completed.
Morgana cradled Jaenor's unconscious form, her expression a mixture of relief and lingering fear. His breathing was steady now, his features relaxed in genuine sleep rather than the forced unconsciousness Pride had imposed. But even at rest, there was something different about him. His skin seemed to shimmer faintly in the light, as if the power he'd contained still flickered just beneath the surface.
