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... mana."
"No." He turned to her fully. "Now I can see it."
Ashwing made a distressed squeak, which he tried to disguise as a dignified throat-clear. "Like... colors?"
"Colors. Shapes. Lines. Currents." Lindarion’s eyes shifted—no longer simply gold, but threaded with faint white luminescence, as though a constellation had taken root in his irises. "The desert is breathing."
Nysha stared at him. Not afraid. But shaken.
"Lindarion... the Unwritten Path change ...
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