Shevannai Voices Of The Elves Cracked [2022]

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dying through the western sky before the rumbling of an approaching storm, and the lightning split the night sky into brilliant, spectral blue and white. Galen watched the impending storm with apprehension, not sure what to expect. "My book says this is a bad one," he said, his fingers curled around the cover of his huge tome. "A storm such as this is seldom formed at this time of year. In the case of this storm, it appears to be strong and long-lasting," Malik replied, watching it with interest. "You mean the book is wrong?" Galen asked, feeling a sudden chill despite the heat of the room. "I do not know. But at least we have rain tonight. The red star has taken hold of the sky and I cannot see it anymore." His head was spinning and he slumped forward in his chair. His hands clasped his face, pressing it into the couch so that his forehead rested against it. For a moment he rested that way. "What are you doing?" "Talking to myself," he said, his voice muffled by the cushions. His eyes closed, his mind whirling, thoughts drifting away and he drifted into the storm, where the thunder exploded and lights flashed across the heavens, filling the clouds with blue and white sparks. He must have slept because when he opened his eyes again, he was asleep. He had been dreaming and now he was awake, sitting up in the chair as the storm continued outside the window. He could hear it and feel the vibrations of the wind, the timbers of the building creaking as the forest blew through it, branches of the trees breaking free from their moorings and crashing against the glass. And then, with a mighty crash, the glass itself broke and a hundred million shards of glass filled the room with swirling storm winds. Galen gripped the arms of the chair and watched as the winds pushed the glass into the room and shattered into deadly shards. His eyes were open, yet he felt as though he was asleep. Then he heard the scream. It was the scream of a child, calling for him, but he did not know where it was coming from. He struggled to see, to find it and listen to its cries for help, but the room was thick with broken glass, wind-blown from the windows and the once-beautiful stained glass windows now shattered,

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