As Eryndor and Aria sat in the garden, enjoying the peacefulness of the night, a figure emerged from the shadows. He was tall and lean, with piercing green eyes that seemed to gleam in the moonlight.

  "Ah, perfect timing," Aria said, rising from the bench. "Eryndor, this is Lyrien. He's an old friend of mine."

  Lyrien bowed low, his eyes never leaving Eryndor's face. "It's an honor to meet you, Eryndor," he said, his voice low and smooth.

  Eryndor felt a shiver run down his spine as he shook Lyrien's hand. There was something about the stranger that didn't feel quite right.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "What brings you here, Lyrien?" Aria asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  "I've come to warn you, Aria," Lyrien said, his voice serious. "There are those who seek to harm Eryndor. They will stop at nothing to achieve their goals."

  Aria's eyes flashed with anger. "Who are they?" she demanded.

  Lyrien hesitated, glancing around the garden as if he feared being overheard. "I'm not sure," he said finally. "But I know they're powerful. And they'll do everything in their power to destroy Eryndor."

  Eryndor felt a surge of fear run through him. Who were these people, and what did they want with him?

  Aria's face was set in a determined expression. "Don't worry, Eryndor," she said. "I'll protect you. We'll face whatever dangers come our way together."

  Eryndor felt a sense of gratitude towards Aria. He knew he could trust her to keep him safe.