She was ready.
The portal tore open in Alina's private courtyard with a sound like screaming.
The mud-encased cocoon tumbled through, roots still writhing with Celeste's earth magic, and landed with a wet thud on ancient stone. The portal sealed behind it immediately—Alina's own power snapping shut like a steel trap, reinforced with wards that had taken her decades to perfect.
No going back. Not without her permission.
Alina stood perfectly still, her hands clasped before her, watching as the mud began to crack. She'd deliberately chosen this location: the courtyard was open to the sky but enclosed by walls carved with containment runes older than most civilizations. The stone beneath her feet hummed with layered protections, each one a lesson learned through centuries of guarding this
