The next morning, the heavy wooden bar slid open with a grating scrape that dragged Nox from a light, restless sleep. Mela stood in the doorway, her expression unreadable.
"The Elder summons you. Both of you."
'Showtime,' Nox thought. He pushed himself to his feet, his body feeling coiled and ready. The aches from his core integration were gone, replaced by an energy that felt like a predator waiting to be unleashed.
He helped Serian up, her face full of caution. They followed Mela back to Fena's house, the other dark elves watching their slow procession with the same cold hostility as the day before. He felt their glares like they wanted to eat him over some rice but they didn't bother him. They were just noise.
Fena was waiting for them, standing by the fire pit. Her gaze was like chips of ice.
"I will speak with the Sun Elf," she announced, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Alone."
