Lyla
The scene shifted. Aeron sat in a tent with three elders, with grave expressions.
"You're a Moonsinger," the eldest said. "Born once in a generation. Your voice can command the beasts because you share their nature."
"I'm not a beast," Aeron protested. "I'm a warrior. I was born to fight; enough of all this talk about Moonsinging. Besides, didn't the High Priestess already confirm that I lost my powers?"
"You did lose your powers, Aeron, but you're fighting with Neriah's sword. You should not forget that. You're both," the female elder replied. "And now you must learn to control this gift before it controls you, since you have Neriah's sword."
Aeron shook his head, sinking the sword in front of the Elders. "I was only forced to retrieve it because it seemed like the only thing that could kill Ferals, but it doesn't work. I don't want this. Find someone else."
