Zephyra held his gaze for three long heartbeats before letting out a slow, content breath.
"I have not felt anything wrong in my own body either. If anything, my spirit has never felt lighter." she said.
A faint, wicked smirk returned to her lips as she glanced back toward the roaring vortex of light.
"In that case... let us simply wait for our Warchief to finish claiming her new throne. Interfering now would be the height of stupidity."
Sol exhaled slowly and finally let the tension drain from his shoulders. Together they turned to face the tornado.
The column of essence still roared, though the pitch had changed. What had begun as a chaotic, almost violent gathering was steadily refining itself.
The spinning light grew denser, brighter, more ordered. Inside it Veylara's silhouette remained suspended, head back, body rigid, every thread of power sinking into her without resistance.
