Rain drummed against the tower walls and streaked down the window. The storm outside howled without pause. The wind was strong enough to push the rain through every narrow opening on the buildings.

Archmage Sylmira stood before the tall window, her robe rippling with every gust that slipped through. The cold drops brushed her face but she barely noticed.

Her expression was rigid and her eyes looked distant with thought and worry. She clasped her hands tightly together. Her knuckles pale from the strain.

Behind her, Arty sat near the hearth with stacks of open books around her. The flicker of candlelight danced across her face as her eyes moved restlessly over the pages.

She was reading, or at least trying to. The truth was she couldn't stop thinking about the storm or about her brother.

Erend was far away, fighting in another dimension where the entity dwelled and the thought of it pressed heavily on her chest.

She didn't want to dwell on it too much actually. She didn't want to imagine what he might be facing over there.

So she forced herself to keep reading to let the words blur and drown out her thoughts.

When she looked up from her book, she saw Sylmira still by the window staring into the rain as if searching for answers in it.

Arty could see the tension in her teacher's shoulders. That was the same anxiety that filled her own mind and heart.

Sylmira had sent several adventurer groups out into the storm just this morning and no one had given her any news. It wasn't unusual for expeditions to take time but under such strange weather and with no word at all, the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You should move back from the window," Arty said gently. "You'll get wet."

Sylmira blinked and turned, as if waking from a long thought.

She let out a quiet sigh and closed the window with a small gesture of her hand. The latch clicks softly into place.

The wind's roar dulled to a muffled rumble. Then she came to sit beside Arty. She still looked calm but also burdened.

"It's going to be alright," Arty said quietly. But her voice faltered halfway. She was not too certain herself.

Sylmira's eyes softened but her tone was weary. "Is it really? Do you truly believe that?"

Arty met her gaze but said nothing for a while.

She only sighed, then closing her book.

"Maybe not. But worrying about what we can't control won't help anyone. We should keep ourselves busy with something useful for now."

Sylmira studied her for a moment, then nodded faintly.

"You're right," she murmured. "There's work to do."

The Archmage rose again, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face.

She crossed the chamber and lit several more candles with a flick of her fingers. Their light joined the dim glow of the others, pushing back the shadows that clung to the corners of the room.

She pulled the parchment map from the shelf. This was a large one depicting the regions beyond their border, inked with runes and ley lines. She spread it across the table.

Arty stood and walked over. "You're trying to locate them?"

Sylmira nodded. "If the storm is what I think it is, then normal means of contact won't work. But the Magic energy flows in the leylines might still carry faint traces of their Magic. If I can attune to it, perhaps I can find where they are."

Arty helped Sylmira gather the crystals and catalyst stones for the thing they were about to do. The air in the tower changed as they worked. The vibration of Magic energy growing.

When Sylmira placed her hand over the map, the runes flared to life in blue lights. Lines of light crawled across the parchment like veins, pulsing through the storm's distant echo.

Her lips moved in silent incantation.

On the outside, thunder cracked across the sky. For a fleeting second both of them thought they heard something else beneath the thunder's roar.

Sylmira froze, her eyes narrowing.

"That wasn't just thunder," she whispered.

Arty's heart beating faster. "Then what was it?"

The Archmage didn't answer. The map's runes flashed blue, then dimmed to nothing.

Sylmira lowered her hand slowly, her expression stiff.

"We'll find out soon," she said. "We're not done yet. Bring me the communication crystal. We will use it as an anchor to call the group."

—

The quiet sounds of medical equipment filled the infirmary. Now, after days of restless unconsciousness, they began to wake up and some even got even better.

Groans echoed across the room as one of them who had been asleep for day tried to sit up, their bodies still weak from the strain of Magic coursing through veins not meant to bear it.

Adrien stepped through the automatic doors. He paused by the doorway, his expression heavy.

He adjusted his uniform and looking across the recovering candidates. Their eyes turned to him, filled with confusion. Looking at his expression they thought that he could be delivering bad news.

"Captain," one of them rasped, his throat dry. "What happened? Did we fail if we injured this much?"

"No. You didn't fail. The project is being put on hold," Adrien said.

A silence spread through the room. Several of the candidates exchanged glances.

"But we were just starting to make progress, Captain." One of them, a woman whose arm was still wrapped in charred bandages, said.

Adrien walked deeper into the room, stopping between their beds. His eyes softened, but the weight behind them was impossible to hide.

"Too many of you were hurt. So we agreed that we need to suspend operations until we understand what went wrong," he replied while looking at them.

Whispers rippled among the group. Some looked defiant and the others looked fearful.

Adrien could feel the tension tightening the air.

He rubbed the back of his neck and added. "There was also an anomaly in the last test. So we need to check what it is first."

That silenced them.

Adrien looked around, meeting their eyes one by one. "For now, you all just rest. The project will resume when we're certain it won't kill anyone else."

Then he stepped out, and the door closed behind him, leaving the twenty candidates in uneasy silence.

—