"She can stay by his side, until death comes for them both!"
Ashlynn's frigid proclamation came with a surge of power, as if the entire forest surrounding the ancient fortress responded to the pain and grief of the Mother of Trees, lending her strength and support in her moment of fury. The air became so thick and oppressive with the weight of Ashlynn's power that Isabell struggled to draw breath.
The fire in the hearth flared brighter as the flames gorged themselves on the dense, woody energy that flooded the room. Hanging above the flames, the forgotten tea kettle that Ashlynn had hung at the start of her conversation with Isabell hissed and whistled, sputtering madly as it boiled over and spitting out a cloud of steam.
