Dawn had barely touched the horizon when Elara led Draven through the ancient grove that protected the Sacred Healing Grounds. The air itself felt different here—charged with centuries of accumulated magic that made every breath taste like lightning and starlight.
Elara wore traditional healer's robes, their fabric a shifting palette of sunrise colors that seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. Crystal bangles clinked softly at her wrists, each one encoded with protective runes that had been passed down through generations of Solarian healers.
"The grounds have been here since before written history," she explained, her voice naturally dropping to a reverent whisper. "Every Solarian healer has added their energy to this place."