Somewhere else, a giant flower squirts out Aren's drenched body on the ground and retches. Aren inhales the warm air filled with the scent of Torsha. There's only one place on Iravan where these flowers grow. That place is Sviesal, the capital of the Kingdom of God Noras.
He struggles to get up. His joints are in pain. The poison of the flower is not going to kill him, but it's slowing his movements. He grits his teeth and reaches for the fragile Torsha flower on the ground.
As the flower is crushed in his hand, he mumbles weakly, "I, a descendant of the Abe, the chosen one to carry the holy fire, call the patron and protector of my bloodline."
In the palace, God Noras opens his eyes. How long has it been since a mortal called him for protection? He looks toward the window. The sky is dark. What must have happened?
Lying beside him, Ea raises her head. "What's wrong?"
"I need to go." He casts a spell to change his clothes. "My son is hurt."
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