Köflik wiped the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his sleeve, glancing heavily at Foster, still kneeling in front of the budding tree. The wind had picked up, carrying with it the last echoes of the battle.
- There's no time for tears," Foster declared in a broken but firm voice. There are others.
Kassandra looked up sharply.
- Where?
Foster closed his eyes for a moment. He let his mind plunge into the bond that united them all: him, Köflik, the other survivors... those he had saved from death by transforming them into elves from the World Tree. This invisible thread vibrated within him, an interweaving of presences that he could perceive, feel like heartbeats in the distance.
- Two groups," he announced after a moment. One to the north, the other further east. We've got to move fast.
Köflik nodded, tightening the grip of his weapon on his back. Kassandra, for her part, looked up at the tree where Orwen's essence now rested, before huffing resignedly:
