The first whispers came like the soft murmur of a distant storm — too weak to even consider seeing from the start, too simple to even think about excuses. When the thundering became clear to the point of being heard across Verauno, it was too late. The storm was already upon us
I first found out about the turmoil from Maren. He tracked me down in my typical spot close to the forest's edge, where the shadows were long, and the air conveyed the cool, soggy aroma of pine. Once more, I was rehearsing, attempting to bring the abnormal energy inside me without letting completely go. The earth underneath my feet felt charged, practically alive, but I still hadn’t figured out how to shape it.
“Aria,” Maren called, his voice carrying an edge I didn’t recognize. “You need to hear this.”
I straigh
