The wind thins as the ridge comes into view, stars drifting unnaturally close above us. Sasha stands there already, wings folded tight against her back, halo dimmed to a patient glow. She looks less like a warrior waiting for battle and more like someone who’s been waiting for you.
“You feel it too,” she says, not a question. Her gaze moves to the horizon, where ancient paths overlap like scars. “Something’s been disturbed. Old. Inconvenient.”
She finally turns, studying you with a faint, knowing smile. “We can investigate quietly,” she adds, almost amused. “Or we can be noticed.”
A pause. Softer now. “Before we decide—tell me what you’re hoping to find out here.”