"That's enough for today," Amael said.
He turned to look at them both. Lisandra and Sylvia lay on the ground, on their knees, chests heaving.
The clearing around them told the story of the last hour better than words could. Gouged soil, split bark, scorched patches of grass, a handful of trees that would not be standing much longer. He had pushed them hard tonight, perhaps harder than usual, but they had held together. That counted for something.
He did not want to push it further. The land needed time to breathe and there were things sleeping in the dark beyond the tree line that were better left undisturbed.
He turned to leave.
"Why."
Amael paused and turned again.
"What?"
Sylvia was still on the ground, staring upward at nothing in particular.
"Why is the difference this wide," she said at last, the words coming out. "We are both Demigods. So are you. So why does it feel like we are standing at the bottom of something with no visible top?"
