Seren stood at the tall window of the royal chamber overlooking the inner courtyard, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the cool glass. The dark fur along her shoulders and forearms caught the golden light. She could still feel the echo of the old healer's words in her mind; the ancient texts, the warnings, the burden of knowledge that now rested partly on her shoulders.
Kael was somewhere in the training grounds, Aeron was focused on the reform matters in the council chambers, and Theron was moving through the palace corridors. The bond hummed gently in Seren with their presence.
She was struggling with who she had become.
A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts. Lysa entered, carrying a small stack of parchment. Her friend's face was laced with concern.
