Zephyr stood quietly for a moment, watching Medderath's expression remain stubbornly unreadable. He watched as Medderath backed up the wall, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
He had spoken little since Elena collapsed, but the tightness around his eyes told Zephyr clearly that he was worried. Gravely so.
"Elyria." Zephyr turned to her at last when Medderath refused to respond further. His voice was firm but gentle. He held out an object made of shimmering blue metal. The compass glowed faintly, reacting to Elyria's presence. "Take this compass. Go to the human world now. There is a man I befriended years ago. He owes me a favor for helping him and his brother escape an evil lord. Locate him and ask him for a handful of Golden Millet grass."
Elyria accepted the compass with both hands the way a knight would receive a sacred artifact. Her eyes hardened with determination. "On it," she replied without hesitation.
