Tremors ran through the earth with every step the Dryad took, vines growing along its footsteps.
The previously battling armies of the barbarians and soldiers of Albions scattered out of its way, everyone running for their lives.
There was a general sense of confusion in the air with the soldiers wondering where the Dryad had come from and the barbarians wondering if the battle was over.
Abram didn't care. He streaked across the wreckage of the Ross castle, looking for his wife. An instant later, he found her body, slumped on rubble, covered in blood.
NO!
He materialized before her, gathering her into his arms. "No! Maria!"
Blood covered every inch of her body, but there was not a single injury. The Dryad had healed its host before escaping.
He pressed a finger to her neck, feeling for her pulse. She was still alive!
"Maria!" he gently shook her. "Maria please!"
Another tremor ran through the ground from the slow steps of the Dryad. The creature roared again into the air.
