Velros stood in the shadow of the towering maze walls, with his chest heaving with exertion.
Every attempt to break free of the invisible barrier above had drained his energy, leaving him feeling heavier than ever before.
He gazed up at the sky, frustration gnawing at him like a festering wound.
"Impossible," he muttered to himself, his wings twitching with irritation. "How can there be magic this strong in such a place? A mere human tribe—there's no way they should have this kind of power."
He clenched his fists, feeling the residual magic that seemed to crawl through the air, restricting his flight.
The helplessness he was feeling was sinking in, and it was as chilling as the wind that swept through the maze.
He couldn't fly out.
Something—no, someone—had cast a magic far beyond his comprehension, and it was keeping him grounded.