A hush settles over the slab after the boy’s ragged breath evens and Admiral, spent, slips into exhausted sleep. The moon has started its slow slide behind the trees when the swirling mist thickens once more—this time in purposeful coils that climb the ledge like silver serpents. The vapor gathers at the stone’s edge, folds inward, and unfurls into the luminous shape of Queen Naidra of the River Court.
Her gown is spun from rippling moonlight; tiny rivulets of water trace the hem and vanish into the mist. Behind her, translucent currents drift like shadow‐fish, faint echoes of the river’s power that answers only to her call. She surveys the scene—blood-dappled stone, hound corpses strewn below, the boy sleeping in Rowan’s arms. She seems fascinated by the sight of the boy breathing steadily—but inclines her head with regal composure.
"Brave mortals," she begins, voice soft as water over polished stones yet carrying to every ear, "you have tasted the sheltering mists my court once gifted to the Makai. Tonight they spared you from darker ends—though not without cost." Her gaze lingers on Taresh’s bandaged form, on Regan’s battered armor, on Admiral’s slumbering silhouette. "Be at ease. The river remembers its friends...even those who wield Abyssium."
She looks away from Admiral and then a cool wind circles outward from her bare feet; the fog brightens into a gentle, teal glow that washes over the company. Cuts knit closed, bruises fade, breath steadies. Even Taresh’s chest rises without strain. (Each party member gains the benefits of a full rest and is restored to maximum hit points.)
Naidra folds her hands at her waist, droplets of liquid starlight sliding between her fingers. "I have just come from the Fossergrim’s falls," she says, and a faint smile touches her lips. "Thanks to your warning, Nai Nai is free of the demon’s lingering stain. The child rests, chasing dragonflies in his dreams—no nightmares now."
She steps closer, misty ribbons trailing like tidal foam. "I know what thread pulls you onward: the lantern… the Moonroot Nexus… Lady Oceana herself. No fey noble, not even I, may breach that veil uninvited." Jealousy flickers in her sea-bright eyes, quickly banked behind courtly serenity. "How I would cherish a glimpse of that hidden wound the late king charged Lady Oceana to guard. Yet I honor our law. Remember this: the lantern answers only to the one who bears it freely."
Her expression hardens, ripples of current tightening around her ankles. "But beware Lord Etrivel. He would trail you like a hungry eel, twist the Nexus to his own designs, and claim its power for a single house—not for the river, nor for the Feywild at large." She lets the warning hang, cold and clear.
Naidra’s gaze softens once more when it lands on Regan. "Hammer-bearer," she says, almost fondly, "were the courts not so bound, I would keep you as my bright human ward, if only to watch you scowl at etiquette." A playful glint, gone as quickly as it came.
She turns to Khyree, Cordey, Jin, Tasya, Mischa, and Rowan in turn. "May the currents guide your feet dawnward. When next you breathe the river’s mist, remember whom it serves." She raises one hand; droplets hang in the air like scattered pearls, then drift to each adventurer, cool against their skin—a silent blessing.
The queen’s form begins to dissolve back into swirling fog. As the filament fades, her voice lingers on the night breeze: "Hold fast the lantern, guard your memories, and let no shadowed lord follow your wake..."
