The golden mist curled around Argolaith as he walked back down the path, his steps steady, deliberate. The second tree's presence still lingered behind him—not watching, but remembering.
Valtheryn had spoken.
The lifeblood was his now.
Sealed within the rune-etched vial, hidden safely within his storage ring.
But the weight of it was still there.
Not physical.
Not magical.
Something deeper.
Something that whispered of promises yet to be fulfilled.
The golden mist thinned. The roots that had once blocked his path had parted, allowing him to step forward, back to where Kaelred, Malakar, and Thae'Zirak waited.
Kaelred was the first to react. His arms were crossed, and his eyes immediately scanned Argolaith as if expecting him to be different. "You're back. You're alive. That's a good start."
Malakar, ever composed, studied him in silence. But his violet flames flickered slightly. He saw it—the weight of what had changed.
