As they stepped into the mission hall, the familiar scent of ink, old parchment, and faintly burnt coffee beans washed over them. It was quiet—too quiet—save for the occasional scratch of a quill and the turning of brittle pages. Lanterns flickered with a soft golden hue against the polished wood, casting long shadows on the marble floor. Dust motes danced in the beams of light slicing through the tall arched windows. Despite the hour, a handful of clerks worked quietly at their desks, murmuring to each other or filing away scrolls into the towering cabinets lining the back wall.
At the center of it all, behind a wide oak counter cluttered with papers, feathers, and three half-empty mugs, sat Elina. Her legs were propped up on the desk, a thick book resting against her knees, and her glasses pushed just low enough on her nose to look over them with practiced disinterest.
When she glanced up, her eyes landed on the trio—and immediately widened.
"You're alive?" she said flatly.
Ethan gave a tired blink. "We just saw you an hour ago."
"Yeah, but you didn't look like a herd of horses dragged you across a volcano."
The three boys looked like walking disasters. Asher's blue hair was singed at the tips, and his shirt had been reduced to a ragged, soot-covered vest that clung to him with what looked like dried blood—or barbecue sauce; no one dared ask. Nick's cloak had been torn diagonally across the back, one sleeve missing, and his cheek bore a jagged scratch that was still faintly glowing from residual wind magic. Ethan had a gash on his arm, his lightning tattoos flickering weakly like dying embers. They all had bruises forming along their necks and shoulders, dirt smudges, and eyes dulled by exhaustion.
Elina's eyes narrowed as she scanned their forms—then zeroed in on their empty hands.
"No weapons?" she said, voice suddenly too calm. "Let me guess. Kael confiscated your shiny toys?"
Nick nodded, wincing. "Claimed they were traumatized. Like us."
"They were cracking under the strain," Ethan muttered, exasperated. "He said they'd snap if we swung them again."
"I liked Emberfang's cracking," Asher added mournfully. "Gave it character. Like a dragon snoring."
Elina smirked, rolling her eyes as she leaned forward to pluck the mission scroll from Ethan's hand. "Kael's probably fixing them while yelling at some poor innocent metal for daring to exist."
She unrolled the scroll with casual precision, eyes scanning across the report. Her expression shifted gradually—from amused, to curious, then to something hard and focused. Her fingers stilled midway down the page.
She looked up slowly. "Where's the crystal?"
Ethan met her gaze without flinching. "Kael took it."
That brought her upright, legs dropping from the desk with a dull thud. Her book slid off her lap and hit the floor, forgotten.
"Took it?" she repeated sharply. "Why?"
"He said it was unstable," Ethan replied. "Corrupted. Not just goblin magic."
Nick stepped in, voice quieter now. "There were crimson veins in its glow. It pulsed. Like… it was alive. Breathing, almost."
Elina stared at them, every trace of humor vanished from her face. "No normal shaman lasts that long. No normal goblin commands that many. If the crystal was corrupted, it might explain the endless waves. The madness. The unnatural coordination."
"What do you think Kael's going to do with it?" Asher asked, folding his arms over his chest with a tired huff.
Elina exhaled through her nose. "Hopefully not blow up the forge. But knowing him, he'll study it, test it, maybe even dissect it. If it's what I think it is…"
She didn't finish. The silence that followed hung heavy between them.
Then Asher opened his mouth.
He didn't even say anything—just tilted his head toward Ethan, brows rising as if about to spill something deeply inconvenient.
Elina's finger was up in an instant, sharp as a knife. "Don't."
Asher blinked. "What?"
"I can see it. Whatever weird secret you three are brewing behind those vacant expressions, just… don't. Keep it to yourselves. I already have a headache, and it's way too early in the day to deal with another mess."
Asher closed his mouth, sheepishly glancing at Ethan.
Ethan suddenly found the floorboards deeply fascinating.
Nick whistled as he looked up at the ceiling, hands behind his back like a guilty schoolboy.
Elina's eyes narrowed further, voice dropping an octave. "Especially if it involves eggs or something disgusting."
The trio froze.
Dead silence.
Elina blinked. "Wait—does it involve eggs?"
"Nope!" Asher said, voice a full octave higher than usual.
"Not even slightly," Ethan said, his expression now the portrait of forced neutrality.
Nick coughed and added, "I mean, what even are eggs, really? Philosophically."
Elina closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. "You three are going to give me wrinkles before I hit twenty-five and you should receive your points she said sending a total of 45 points each and the boys would still be rewarded by the academy for there bravery "
" You guys are lucky you got kael unlike other students who have to buy there own weapons " said Elina.
More silence.
Asher shifted awkwardly, then leaned toward Ethan. "Should we… check on Kael?"
Ethan gave the barest nod. "Probably. Make sure he hasn't fused himself to an anvil."
Nick started backing toward the door. "Yeah, let's do that. You know. Supportive forging presence."
Elina opened her eyes just enough to glare. "Don't break anything else."
"We never break anything on purpose," Asher called as they shuffled out.
The mission hall doors creaked shut behind them, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Elina sat back down, exhaled slowly, and picked up her book—though her eyes no longer moved across the page.
Something had changed. She could feel it.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, a single word echoed, unspoken but persistent.
Eggs.