Erik and Elora's lips quickly parted again. "You'll protect me, right?" Erik asked Elora wryly, without acknowledging the voice just yet.
"Oooh, very daring of you to ignore me, boy," the voice responded in a cold tone that sent shivers down Erik's back. He felt their surroundings tremble as if the aetherium present there was aching for the moment this voice commanded them to rip Erik apart.
Still in his arms, Elora giggled at Erik's wry expression, "Hehe, don't worry, my love. She won't touch a hair on your head." She glanced at the voice's origin, smiling joyfully. "Right, Mom?"
There, just a few meters away, next to a tree, stood a beautiful, mature, but short woman. Her hands were resting on her hips, framed by her long crimson hair, and her equally crimson eyes were narrowed in apparent annoyance. Erik easily recognized her as the first person he'd seen when arriving on Söl: Elora's mother, Morganae.
