Elyon stood slowly from the ground.
He was massive — broad-shouldered, chest like a mountain, his frame filling the workshop with a weight all its own.
Azel found himself blinking upward at him, and a stray thought slipped into his mind before he could stop it.
'If he's this tall already… when I reach his age, will I be like seven feet tall too?'
"Ah… Anya, is that you?" Elyon's voice was gravel, rough but strangely warm.
He took two lumbering steps forward, and his sharp eyes narrowed as he saw the girl smiling.
A rare thing, if Azel's observations were correct.
"I never knew you could smile this much," Elyon said softly.
Anya's cheeks bloomed crimson, and she turned her head quickly, embarrassed at being seen so open.
Her hand was still entwined with Azel's, fingers delicate against his.
Elyon noticed instantly.
His expression hardened like tempered steel, and his gaze cut into Azel like a blade.
