The clearing was silent.
The brazier flickered faintly where Scribbles had disappeared. No trace left. No explanation. Just cold panic twisting in my gut.
I stared at the empty space for a heartbeat too long.
The system chimed like an unhelpful assistant with perfect timing.
[Warning: Mythline Entanglement Level Rising]
[Optional Quest: Do Not Panic (You Will Fail)]
Nailed it.
"Relay, do me a favor," I whispered. "If I start screaming, write 'called it' in the report."
"Already noted," Relay whispered back.
The half-elves were staring at us now. Dozens of them. Sharp eyes. Whispers between their ranks. And leading them, Sylrien, calm as ever but with the faintest crease between her brows.
She stepped forward. "Explain."
I flicked my tail. "Define 'explain.'"
"The spirit. The glyph-marked one. Why was it bound to your flame?"
There it was. The question I could not answer without sounding completely insane.
