Sylmira turned away from the window, the flashes of lightning lit her sharp thoughtful face. Magic power still lingered faintly in the air from their earlier work.
Arty looked up from the table, her fingers still glowing from the residue of the enchantment.
"What do you think this storm really is?" she asked, her voice hesitant. "It's not just weather and even I can feel that something about it feels wrong. What is hidden behind this storm?"
Sylmira pressed her lips together, her mind already racing through countless theories.
"We have been sensing disturbances in the leyline flow for days now," she said, pacing slowly across the room. "And we confirmed it that there's necrotic energy awakening beneath the northern valley. The Magic that should have long been dormant is stirring again. But this—" she gestured toward the window, where lightning crackled like veins through the sky— "this storm does not align with that kind of energy."
