Faelyn closed her eyes.
Focused inward on that well of divine energy she'd felt when fighting Scar'oth.
The power that had let her call roots and vines from the earth.
The ability that had drained her so completely she'd collapsed unconscious.
'But that was rage. Pure fury at being attacked, at my people being hurt. No control, no focus, just throwing everything at him hoping something worked.'
She reached for the power carefully this time.
Gently.
Like picking up something fragile instead of grabbing it.
The energy responded.
Warm. Alive. HERS.
She extended her awareness outward.
Looking for plant life.
There—moss growing in the damp corner where stone met stone.
Ancient roots threading through rock deep below, searching for water.
Lichen clinging to the cave walls in the tunnels above.
All of it within her reach if she just... asked.
Faelyn focused on the moss.
'Grow. Just a little. Just enough to see if this works.'
The moss responded.
