Months and years had passed, as if nothing had happened.
The disappearance of Eeri, her mother, shortly after she returned from the Old Lands and was finally able to get to know her. The research, leads and information she'd passed on to the Trytonists, who hadn't arrived in time. Her decision to return to the Old Lands, no longer able to hold a dagger. A departure that would never take place.
Then, all the false leads, or rather, everything that can never be proven again. Had she really undergone an operation at the hands of Mazé'Yum, her old friend the Zoraï scholar, an ambiguous and controversial hominin? And if so, had the operation been successful, had she regained the use of her arm? How and when had she found herself at the mercy of the followers of the cult of the Great Dragon? Why had they kept her alive? Had she also tried to infiltrate them?
Then Azazor's disappearance, his return, his trial, his confession. The confession of having killed with his own hands the mother of his own son, held by the Sect of the Great Dragon, so that he could better infiltrate and fight them. Game over for Eeri, Tryker citizen. A high-ranking Fyros member of the Adepts was unmasked but had fled, Sharükos had decided to let Azazor go free, the homins of the federation wanted justice.
And Lyren... She just wanted to find peace. Above all, it was time for farewells, time for tears, time to know that her mother was free of the weight that life had become since her return. The ceremony had to be neutral, free and peaceful, in her image. It needed essence of oxyx, shooki, byrh, friends, enemies, carefree. It was time to let the ocyx fly.
The disappearance of Eeri, her mother, shortly after she returned from the Old Lands and was finally able to get to know her. The research, leads and information she'd passed on to the Trytonists, who hadn't arrived in time. Her decision to return to the Old Lands, no longer able to hold a dagger. A departure that would never take place.
Then, all the false leads, or rather, everything that can never be proven again. Had she really undergone an operation at the hands of Mazé'Yum, her old friend the Zoraï scholar, an ambiguous and controversial hominin? And if so, had the operation been successful, had she regained the use of her arm? How and when had she found herself at the mercy of the followers of the cult of the Great Dragon? Why had they kept her alive? Had she also tried to infiltrate them?
Then Azazor's disappearance, his return, his trial, his confession. The confession of having killed with his own hands the mother of his own son, held by the Sect of the Great Dragon, so that he could better infiltrate and fight them. Game over for Eeri, Tryker citizen. A high-ranking Fyros member of the Adepts was unmasked but had fled, Sharükos had decided to let Azazor go free, the homins of the federation wanted justice.
And Lyren... She just wanted to find peace. Above all, it was time for farewells, time for tears, time to know that her mother was free of the weight that life had become since her return. The ceremony had to be neutral, free and peaceful, in her image. It needed essence of oxyx, shooki, byrh, friends, enemies, carefree. It was time to let the ocyx fly.