The forest gave way, replaced by jagged stone peaks, scorched valleys, and skies lit by the clouds of wildfire. She felt like she was no longer viewing the world through her own eyes. Instead, she was caught up in someone else's experience, connected to a pain that didn't belong to her.
The air was dry. The world… dying.
She saw the cracked earth of the Scorched Vale—once lush, now broken and black. Rivers of molten light flowed through dead forests. Where there had once been life, there was only ash.
And dragons.
Three massive dragons lay on a cliff, looking worn and tired. Their wings were frayed, and their scales had lost their shine. One dragon, distinguished by a crimson streak that matched Draven's hair, stretched out a claw toward a pedestal made of black obsidian.
The pedestal was empty.
Where the pearl should have been.
A wave of agony surged through Evelina, and she gasped.
