The Unyielding Bloom

Previously

…“So,” Valerius’s voice, a silken rasp, slithered through the charged atmosphere, “the little sprout has found her nest. A shame it will be so short-lived.” He gestured with a hand, and tendrils of shadow, thick and viscous, snaked out from his fingertips, lashing towards the guardians. Elder Lyra raised a gnarled hand, and a wall of emerald light, woven from the very essence of the grove, sprang into existence, deflecting the shadowy assault. The light pulsed, vibrant and alive, a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness Valerius exuded. “Your ambition ends here, sorcerer,” Lyra’s voice, though soft, carried the resonance of ages