You either love it or hate it

Megara took a tentative step forward, her expression warm and disarming despite Camlen’s guarded demeanour and tone. She clasped her hands together, her voice lilting with cheerful gratitude.

Thank you, Camlen. Truly. It means a great deal that you’ve chosen to help us despite our… bravado. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled, a deliberate attempt to ease the tension. You’ve done well to guard this sanctuary for so long. I’m definitely impressed.

Her tone softened as she continued, her gaze steady. You should know, Sylaise has not abandoned those against him, we work together in Arlathan. We do what we can. If Elgar’nan’s wrath grows unbearable, if your sanctuary no longer feels safe, you would be welcome with us. None should face such danger alone.

As they reached the grove, Megara looked around with evident awe at the hidden beauty before them. This is remarkable, she murmured. Thank you, Camlen. You’ve preserved something truly special.

Turning to Zoltan with an arched brow and a teasing smile, she gestured toward the gathered supplies. Alright, Zoltan, this is your wheelhouse. What inventory are we still missing? If Camlen’s gathered something of ours by chance, it’ll save us poking something Camlen doesn’t want us prodding.

Moments later, Megara’s whole body stilled as a subtle shift came over her. Her hands fell to her sides, her head tilting slightly as if listening to an unheard voice. Her green eyes darkened, taking back on the otherworldly glow, and when she spoke again, it was not Megara’s voice that emerged, but Sylaise’s.

“There is something of mine here.”

The air around her seemed to hum faintly, leaves shivering in response to the unseen power. Sylaise’s gaze swept over the grove, sharp and unyielding as it fixed on Camlen. Though her tone carried an edge of steel, there was no malice in it—only a profound certainty.

"Now I understand why you were so protective."