Her fingers twitched against cold glass. Not the smooth quartz of her old workshop, but fractured, weeping glass—the kind that grew in the ruins of the Chrono-Weald. She sat up slowly, her pointed ears catching a low hum that didn’t belong to any living forest.
Reya’s smile didn’t waver. “Then you’d better hope no one finds her before I do.” reya the elf ongoing version 061 verified