My mother's reassuring words felt like a warm blanket, but the heaviness in my limbs was undeniable. The rhythmic ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway and the whispers of ate Clydelle's incantations began to blur together. My eyelids grew heavy, the golden afternoon light fading into a wash of gray, then a deep, twilight blue.
Instead, I opened my eyes to a cold, biting wind and the scent of ozone and ancient stone. I was standing on a jagged, obsidian plateau suspended in a sea of clouds. Above, a massive, pale moon dominated the sky, ten times larger than it appeared on Earth, bathing the world in a stark, silver glow.
I knew this place.
My breath hitched as I looked around the towering pillars of rock that circled the arena. This was the Domain of Wolves. This was the battleground where I had fought tooth and nail to earn the respect of my celestial spirit guardian.
And there, at the far end of the plateau, was a Throne.
