Neither Raylee nor Lonna was fully healed by morning. Despite being a healer, Raylee worked slowly on her injuries, conserving her energy. Meanwhile, Loka focused on Lonna, though the effort clearly drained her. Lanni and Tercala readied the wagon as the camp stirred to life, their every movement punctuated by the careful shuffling of those still too weak to walk. Shan took to the skies, able to carry one passenger in dragon form, while Samar and Keltis mounted the horses, sparing them the strain of pulling the wagon. The dragons were stronger, and they hoped this would allow them to reach the town quickly. They all sensed the urgency. They needed a safe place to properly rest and heal. Around mid-morning, Raylee finally emerged from the wagon. Seeing the group’s makeshift arrangement, she nodded decisively, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. Without a word, she shifted, her body elongating and transforming until she took her full dragon form, majestic and fierce. She moved toward the wagon and gently took two of the passengers, adding them to her own load to ease the burden. Lanni caught the surprise on Jahree’s face, his wide eyes and tensed jaw betraying his astonishment. Though Lanni had spoken of Raylee’s connection to their family and mentioned her true form, she could tell Jahree hadn’t fully processed it until now. To think, a dragon had lived hidden on Tameria, helping him escape. It was a lot to take in. Feeling better? Lanni asked, her voice slipping into Raylee’s mind with a telepathic connection. Not a hundred percent, Raylee replied, her mental tone heavy with fatigue, but I’ll manage. Loka’s resting now. She drained herself working on Lonna. How is she? Lanni’s concern was evident even through the mental connection. I don’t know, Raylee admitted. I’m drained too. I gave the last of my energy to Loka. But… Lonna’s not looking good. I think she’s worse off than I am. Lanni hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. Jahree told me she doesn’t belong here. He says she’s the reason they fled Tameria. Raylee’s mental presence sighed, resonating with an ancient weariness. It’s complicated. It’s a longer story than you can handle telepathically, especially if you’re bonded. Don't use mage sight. No magic, Lanni warned. Raylee nodded. I know. They warned me in the wagon. The little girl told me you could feel what Jahree feels. Are you mates yet? We are, but Drepal isn’t. This hit first. Give me a chance to recover. I’ll risk the sickness to get us to New Trito, Raylee offered. Do you think you can transport us with no magic? Lanni asked, feeling her hope rise. I’d have to open a tunnel or gate. No small feat, and not without its own risks. Lanni nodded, then relayed what little Raylee had said about Lonna to Jahree, though she knew it wasn’t enough to quell his fears. He remained tense, his eyes hard with lingering mistrust. By mid-afternoon, Loka stirred awake, and Raylee returned to the wagon to join her. Together, they combined their healing abilities, Raylee using her strength as an augmenter to amplify Loka’s remaining power. With their combined effort, they managed to stabilize Lonna, though the strain left both healers visibly weakened. As they neared the town, Lanni, Ter, and Shan reverted to human form, allowing the horses to pull the wagon on their own. The town appeared humble, its thatched-roof houses clustered around a central square where the townsfolk moved about, oblivious to the newcomers. They guided the wagon to the nearest inn, a weather-beaten building with a sign swaying in the chilly breeze. They pooled their resources and secured several rooms, but not without drawing attention. Inside, they supported Lonna, who managed to walk, albeit shakily, with Tercala by her side. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused as they entered the crowded dining room. The scent of stew and stale ale filled the air, mingling with rough laughter and clinking mugs. Tercala scanned the room and noticed a few patrons casting speculative looks their way. His unease grew as one of the men leered openly at Lonna, his gaze lingering too long. “Touch my wife,” Tercala said coldly, stepping forward, “and you’ll lose a hand. She’s ill, and with this magic eater here, few healers can help her.” The man backed off, muttering, but another patron moved closer to Lanni, his expression predatory. Jahree’s face darkened, and he squared his shoulders, staring the man down. “That’s my wife,” he said, his voice hard. “And if she doesn’t break your wrist, I’ll cut off your need for women.” Taking their cue, each man paired with a woman, standing protectively beside her, except for Jahan, who claimed Shri as his daughter. She caught on quickly, resting her head on his shoulder with a sweet smile. Despite their bluff, Tercala felt a gnawing anxiety at the back of his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this inn was a poor choice—he’d seen worse, yes, but never in a place where they were without magic and surrounded by civilians. He saw Lanni leaning close to Jahree, whispering something to calm him. Whatever memories this situation stirred for him, Jahree seemed deeply unsettled. Tercala felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. He couldn’t help but think of Thager and the governor’s likely role in Jahree’s troubled childhood. He’d have to take action to root out the corruption they’d left behind. But he knew that for now, they’d have to contend with Yarba’s threat looming on the horizon. A sense of urgency filled him as he looked at the others. They’d need all the strength and resilience they could muster to face what lay ahead. #fantasy #magic #dragons #hiddenlands