As we approached the council chamber, the room looked exactly as it had been—untouched since Faragonda's death.
A pile of red dust still lingered in the middle of the floor, like a gruesome centerpiece left to rot.
"Was that Faragonda?" Devran asked.
"Well, what's left of her, anyway."
Lumera, ever the curious one, inched dangerously close to the ashes.
"Don't get too close," Scarlette warned sharply, shutting the door behind us.
"What does the letter say?" she asked, her voice steady but tight.
I tried to tear open the letter, but the paper refused to budge.
"That's strange," I muttered, turning it over in my hands. "It won't open."
Scarlette took the letter from me, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Just as I expected."
Red mists twirled around her hand, encircling the seal on the note. The broken wand sigil flickered in cold blue light before shattering in her grasp.
Devran and Lumera both stared, wide-eyed.
