An inexplicable sense of alarm rose in Ysondre's heart, as though an irresistible danger were descending upon her.
Yet she had no idea where the danger was coming from.
Two feathered arrows, one from the left and one from the right, struck her wings in quick succession.
Ysondre felt a burst of searing pain.
She turned to look and found that both wings had been pierced. Foul-smelling blood flowed from the wounds and dripped onto the ground.
Then came another series of whistles through the air, and arrow after arrow struck her wings.
Ysondre felt utterly humiliated.
She had never imagined that a mortal's arrows could hit her, let alone pierce her wings-and so many of them at that.
Ysondre knew that only one person in all of Feralas possessed such terrifying archery skills.
"Shandris Feathermoon!"
Ysondre cried out in alarm.
She immediately beat her wings frantically, preparing to fly high into the sky.
Once she reached a high enough altitude, she would no longer have to fear Shandris Feathermoon. Even the finest archer could not shoot an arrow ten thousand meters into the air.
Then she would fly to Feathermoon Stronghold and destroy it, taking revenge for the wounds those arrows had inflicted.
"Shandris, you're powerful, but I'm not afraid of you!"
Yet her plan was doomed to fail.
Suddenly, she found herself unable to move. She sensed the presence of time magic.
Only one kind of creature in this world excelled above all others at time magic: the Bronze Dragonflight.
Ysondre immediately realized that an adult Bronze Dragon might be nearby-and might have joined forces with Shandris Feathermoon.
Ysondre felt afraid.
Only then did she understand that this was a planned ambush.
Unfortunately, she could not move. She had not even spotted Shandris Feathermoon, much less the adult