Unbound

"Enough!"

A voice boomed through the chamber, halting everyone in their steps. A physical pressure pushed down against them, shoving Wyrmkin to their knees, and even Beef felt it weigh on his shoulders. The rebels gasped, most falling backwards, and Beef turned around.

At the far end of the chamber, past the now-dead Witness Flower, a pair of statues extended from the ceiling. Once obscured by the Flower, the statues were expertly carved, each depicting the coiled length of a Dragon, complete with spiked tail, claws, and batlike wings that wrapped around themselves. They were sloppily painted, one a deep purple and the other a shimmery green-gold. Its mouth was open as if frozen in a roar, and flowering vines wrapped around its jaws like a bridle.

"Cease your bickering." The voice emanated from the statue on the left—the purple one. "They are not Adamants."

"But the Flower—"

“Witness Flowers are sensitive to pressures of the Spirit. If they were strong enough to face down the Adamants, then there is no question that the Flower would wilt away."

Clenching his jaw, the Elf put up their weapon, and their fellow Wyrmkin did as well. The pressure against them all relented.

"Right. Told you," Beef said, arms akimbo. "We're on your side."

Archie was a lot less cool about things. "What's the deal here? I thought we were going to meet the Wyrms, not take up gardening."