Unlike any other morning, where the sentinels were in glee and happily doing their morning tasks, that very morning was different. Way different on a whole level. You see, the smiles on their faces were gone and were replaced by worry while their eyes trail to the rose. That very same day seemed like a day nearer to the rose's complete wilting. The sentinels left there could feel it. The realm began to show effects as well. Colors were becoming dull and paler light was coming from the beam of light.
Even with all of this, they still tried their best to keep the rose alive. With water and sunlight, and anything else that could be of help. With all they got.
As sentinels they're all as loyal and caring for the Rose as ever. Everything was fine, until they've discovered that their abilities were slowly flickering and fading. For a moment, the waters escaped Aster's palm when she directed it to the rose, so did the sunlight in Septimus' hand and Vladimir, well his appearance somehow changed as the roots did. He appeared more pale and became slightly thinner. Which worried them all as well. Raya's hold on the chains became unstable. As they didn't follow her command and disappeared in thin air even though it wasn't Raya's intention. It was the weakest state for the Rose and the sentinels alike.
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On the river flashed a warning: out in the field of green, where the rose was seen, a pair of feet was approaching.
YOU ARE READING
To The Elf in Kornor Village: A Prelude
FantasyScribbler here, scribbling. I don't know about you, but I don't like knowing too much about a story before actually reading it. It gives it all away, my opinion. So I won't write a detailed blurb here. Instead, let me tell you what you ought to know...
