Ethan walked into the chambers with so much pride and courage, “Rory’s mine” he whispered to himself with so much boldness.
The flickering torches of the council chamber cast long shadows as Ethan stepped into the light, his face was calm but his eyes sharp with determination. The elders, cloaked in their usual silence, looked up at his approach. The central elder, the same one with silver-threaded hair and eyes that held the weight of centuries, steepled his fingers once more.
“I take it the trial is over,” he said.
Ethan nodded. “I made contact with the beast. I understood it. Communicated. As requested.”
The elder’s gaze deepened. “And did you capture it?”
“No,” Ethan replied, voice steady. “I let it go.”
A murmur passed among the other elders. The silver-haired one raised a hand
