The world around them had nothing in common with the reality they once knew.

  The trees sang softly with the passing wind.

  The ground seemed to breathe beneath their feet.

  And in the air, a vibrant density wrapped around every movement, every thought.

  In a clearing bathed in warm green light, Marenna stood facing the dryad.

  The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was necessary.

  “You mustn’t summon,” said the dryad. “You must listen. The magic is already there.”

  Marenna closed her eyes.

  Thorns slowly rose around her, hesitant, uncertain.

  “Too much will. Too much control,” murmured the dryad. “Let go. Feel.”

  She focused again, guided by the dryad’s voice.

  Marenna felt the roots beneath the earth—their impatience, their hunger for air and light.

  She extended her hand without stretching it, and the brambles bloomed, orderly and in full flower.

  “Better,” the dryad whispered. “You’re learning to speak to them.”

  Not far away, in a circle of moss-covered stones, Emmut beckoned Garlan to follow her.

  They moved slightly away from the heart of the forest, until only the distant murmurs of Marenna and the dryad remained.

  “Show me,” Emmut said simply.

  “Show you what?”

  “Your draconic form. What you truly are.”

  She expected a full transformation—massive, terrifying.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But Garlan closed his eyes, inhaled, and let the power rise gently.

  His body became partly covered in scales—his arms, legs, and torso.

  A long, supple tail emerged, like a living whip.

  Even his eyes changed, glowing like amber embers.

  But his head and back remained human.

  Emmut looked at him, visibly surprised.

  “That’s it? You can’t go further?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Hm. I see.”

  She stood upright, arms crossed, thoughtful.

  “Then your first step is clear. You must understand your draconic strength—and learn to channel it. Otherwise, you’ll only scratch the surface.”

  The forest pulsed like a heart around them.

  Garlan’s fire. Marenna’s song.

  And in the stillness, Brenuss watched everything—silent and attentive.

  The dryad then approached Marenna and placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

  “Look into me. Search me.”

  Marenna hesitated, then raised her hand and placed it over the dryad’s.

  Instantly, her mind was pulled elsewhere.

  She found herself immersed in a deep forest—lush, yet structured.

  A perfect balance between wild nature and peaceful haven.

  Thorns bloomed beside radiant flowers.

  Twisted branches sheltered luminous fruit.

  She could feel raw power. Defensive instincts…

  But also the warmth of healing. The tenderness of care.

  “You see?” whispered the dryad’s voice, present all around her.

  “This is the balance you need. Violence is nothing without calm.

  Healing is weak without the strength to defend it.”

  The image of the forest slowly faded, and Marenna opened her eyes, breathless.

  “Seek and find that balance,” said the dryad, stepping back.

  “I give you one week.”

  She drew a circle in the air.

  A green portal opened at once, woven from shifting leaves.

  And without another word, she disappeared through the breach.

  Marenna stood still for a moment, then slowly raised her hand to where the portal had vanished.

  The silence that followed was different—more intimate.

  She breathed in, eyes shining.

  A gentle warmth stirred within her, tinged with a strange dizziness.

  Not fear.

  Just the sense of having been shaken to the core.

  A few steps away, Brenuss slowly turned his head toward her.

  He gazed at her with those large amber eyes, then blinked—once.

  A silent sign of recognition.

  She gave a faint smile, still shaken…

  But already stronger.