A palpable sense of disappointment settled over Teress like a shroud, but she made no move to contest Orion's decision further. There was no anger, nor a desperate bid to change his mind—only the weight of unspoken expectations crumbling in the silence between them.
Orion exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He needed no oracle to foretell the storm that lay ahead. He had already glimpsed its harbinger within the depths of Silver Claw's domain. That place had been a silent prophet of ruin, a harlot whispering omens of untold perils to those who dared to listen. If the horrors he had faced there were merely the machinations of lesser hands, then what loomed on the horizon would demand more than the raw talent of a few promising individuals. No, it would require something far greater.