The Hunt For Lycan Queen
“Hands like light itself. Healed my brother’s fever with one touch and he was good as new by morning.”
My head lifted before I realized it, honing in on the conversation.
The speaker was a merchant, middle-aged, half-drunk, spinning tales to a group of guards around his table. I let their laughter wash over me and listened harder.
“Where?” someone asked, snorting. “The moon doesn’t walk among us mere mortals.”
“Silver Glen,” the merchant said. “A small village near the northern ridge. They call her the Silver Healer. Some say she’s blessed by the Goddess herself. Eyes like molten silver, they say. Glows when she works.”
Bab Populer