The floating terraces stretched endlessly beneath them, each one unique. Some were spongy with moss-like growths, others sharp and crystalline, their jagged edges refracting light in dazzling patterns. The dragonlings darted ahead, squeaking and circling over terraces, occasionally settling to nibble at glowing fruits or touch a shard of luminous mineral.
"Look there," Serelyth called, hovering over a small spire sprouting what looked like a sapling—but unlike any ordinary tree. Its stem was semi-transparent, pulsing faintly with light. Tiny winged leaves flickered in the wind, and at its base, a delicate crystal bud opened and closed like a heartbeat.
Lira's eyes widened. "A dragonkin sapling… it must be rare. It's attuned to this island."
