The shadow bird tore through the Great Wilderness like a streak of living darkness.
Beneath a heavy, ash-colored sky, the wilderness stretched on without end. The trees were ancient things, towering and gnarled, creaking like old bones in the quiet. Mist curled low to the ground, thick as breath, moving slow enough to make time feel broken. Far away, the mountains sat like sleeping gods no one prayed to anymore. Rivers wound through the earth like silver scars.
And then—slam—the bird suddenly slowed.
Its claws scraped violently through the dirt, skidding to a halt, dust pluming around it like a cloud.
Then, for the first time, the shadow bird spoke: "You are just short of a human city. It is to the north, and has a powerhouse protecting it. Look for a man with golden wings. He is a human that looks somewhat inhuman. He will protect you. Wait there till Lady Eleanor returns. My time is over."
Ryan took a deep breath.
