Chapter 21 - Fang of Infernos
"My Lord..." Lyrassa said softly, "when a seed falls, it does not choose where it lands. Sometimes, it finds fertile soil. Sometimes... stone. But it grows, either way. Slowly. Gently. Root by root." She looked up at him. "That is the flow of nature. We do not force it. We follow it."
Atlas tilted his head, listening. "And yet... There are battles like this. Monsters. Destruction. How is that part of nature’s flow?"
"It is not that battles must exist... but that they do. Nature does not ask why the storm comes. It simply prepares. A tree does not hate the lightning. It grounds itself. Spreads its roots deeper. Strengthens its bark."
Atlas let out a slow breath. "So it’s not about the storm, but how we face it?"
She nodded. "Exactly. Life doesn’t wait for peace to grow. It grows through chaos. What matters... is how we respond to what comes."
He watched her a moment longer, before asking quietly, "You’ve been through many battles, haven’t you, Lyrassa?"
Her smile was small and slow. "Yes, My Lord. I have. Not with swords or fire... but to protect what’s dear to me. That’s how nature survives. Not by conquest, but by preserving what matters."
"You did that as a Lord?"
She nodded gently. "Yes, My Lord. I did. And even now... I still do."
"That’s beautiful," Atlas said with a faint smile, though he added with a small chuckle, "even if I barely get what you mean half the time."
Lyrassa giggled quietly. "I get told that often. Spirits of nature... we see things a little differently, I suppose."