Somewhere else, Sylmira stood by the window, her hand resting lightly on the frame as she gazed into the distance.

Beyond the rolling hills and trees she saw the sky had turned black, churning with violent clouds that stretched unnaturally far.

Forks of lightning flashed within them, silent at first but then followed by a low rolling rumble that seemed to shake the air.

Rain had not reached their side of the wall yet but the wind already carried the scent of ozone and something else. Something heavy, unfamiliar, and bad.

Arty, who sat cross-legged on the ground around her works looked up from the open grimoire she had been reading.

"You've been staring out there for a while," she said. "Something off?"

Sylmira didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed as another streak of lightning split the horizon, this one tinged faintly with a purplish hue.

"It's strange," she finally said, her voice quiet but tense. "We are supposed to find necrotic traces that were supposed to spread. But that…" she gestured toward the storm, "that isn't necrotic energy. It feels… volatile and wild. Like the storm itself is alive."

Arty frowned, setting the word aside for now. "Maybe it's a natural phenomenon?"

Sylmira shook her head. "No. Nature doesn't move like that, Arty. The currents in the clouds are too steady and deliberate as if moved by something." She pressed her palm against the glass. Her skin prickled with faint static that shouldn't have reached this far. "Necrotic corruption drains life, it doesn't stir the sky like this. This is… elemental. But different. It feels angry."

Arty frowned and finally decided to stand and joined her at the window. She saw the clouds in the distance pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.

"Do you think it's connected to the disturbance caused by this entity and awakening of necrotic spots?"

Sylmira's eyes darkened. "It might be. If they triggered something else…" She trailed off, her jaw tightening. "But even then, this much energy in the storm shouldn't have built up so fast. Something's amplifying it."

The fortress trembled slightly, so faint that only the hanging lanterns swayed. The storm on the horizon flared again, casting a harsh light that reflected in Sylmira's eyes.

She turned away from the window and reached for her cloak.

Arty straightened. "You're going out?"

"Not yet," Sylmira said, strapping the cloak in place. "But I'm sending a message to King Roderic first. If this storm isn't natural and the necrotic traces are merging with it, then something far worse is coming our way."

Outside, the wind began to howl louder. The stormfront spread, swallowing the last glimmer of sun.

In the distance, faint roars echoed through the thunder, carried by the rising gale.

Sylmira felt her pulse quicken. "Whatever this is, it isn't supposed to exist in this form."

Sylmira turned from the window with her decision already made. The low rumble of thunder echoed through the halls, mingling with the faint hum of the runes Arty had been carving into the parchments.

She gave one last glance toward the storm before looking back at her apprentice.

"Keep working on the runes and the diagrams," Sylmira said firmly. "We'll need the equipment ready soon. If this new thing continues to grow, it might corrupt the designs we already made. Make sure the lines are precise this time and no deviation in the pattern."

Arty straightened from where she knelt, a faint trace of worry in her eyes.

"I will," she said, setting her hand over one of the glowing circles on the ground. "You don't have to worry about this part. I'll finish the layout as soon as possible."

Sylmira nodded once, satisfied, though her expression didn't soften and still looked stiff.

"Good. Don't forget to reinforce the binding points with the spell I told you about before you finish. It will help stabilize the flow."

"I understand."

"Good."

Without another word, Sylmira turned, her cloak sweeping the floor as she strode toward the door.

The faint blue lights of the workroom reflected against the fabric, tracing her silhouette for a brief second before she reached the threshold.

Arty watched her pause there. Her hand resting on the old brass handle. For a moment, the sound of the wind outside filled the silence between them.

"I think you're right," Arty said quietly while looking at the window. "That storm doesn't look like a normal storm at all."

Sylmira glanced over her shoulder, her eyes still fixed with that same calm focus. "It is not. That's why we have to move faster."

She pulled the door open and stepped out into the corridor. The heavy wood creaked shut behind her.The sound echoing through the stone tower until it faded into the storm's distant growl.

The hall was dim and narrow, lit only by wall-mounted lamps that flickered under the pressure of the wind that was already start to seeping through the cracks.

Outside the narrow slits of the corridor windows, the storm had grown closer.

The clouds pulsed with brief flashes of light, outlining their movement like veins across the sky. The flashes cast Sylmira's shadow long across the walls as she descended the winding steps and crossed into the main corridor that led toward the king's throne room.

Her thoughts were sharp, layered with possibilities. "If the necrotic traces had merged with something elemental, that meant either a new convergence point had formed or another ancient power had stirred beneath the land." Neither possibility was good.

She reached the heavy oaken doors of the king's chamber. The two guards stationed outside turned as she approached.

One opened his mouth to speak, but Sylmira raised a hand, and both immediately straightened, saying nothing.

"I need an audience with His Majesty," she said, her voice cutting through the thunder outside. "Now."

The guards exchanged a quick glance before one of them nodded and moved to open the doors.

The sound of metal hinges groaned as the massive doors swung inward, revealing the glow of a large chamber beyond.

Sylmira stepped inside without hesitation. The door closing behind her as another peal of thunder rolled through the palace.

—