The room was eerily quiet as Lucian stared at the parchments spread before him. The reports had confirmed his worst fears—whispers of forbidden magic, the kind long buried and outlawed for its capacity to tear entire realms apart. His spies had delivered the intelligence only hours ago, but even now, the weight of it felt suffocating. He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing as he read the same lines again.
"It's true, then?" Isolde's voice cut through the silence, her tone laced with equal parts curiosity and concern. She stepped closer, her regal presence commanding even in moments of distress. "The remnants of the Church and my enemies have conspired to use magic even the ancients feared?"
Lucian looked up, meeting her gaze. "Yes," he replied grimly. "They're not just trying to undermine us politically or militarily. This is a move of desperation—a weapon of catastrophic destruction. Something worse than we've ever seen."
