Magic seals crisscrossed the walls and floors, flickering in layered patterns that pulsed like veins beneath skin.
A young boy and girl moved carefully around the formation, recording and inspecting the procedure. Sweat soaked their hair, dark circles carved deep beneath their eyes. Every few moments one of them paused, wiped their face with a trembling hand, then continued without complaint.
Damon had not paid much attention to what Lazarak was doing alongside Lyn and Sithara. Not until now.
Seeing the overwhelming complexity of the magical network, he realized just how far out of his depth he truly was.
Their understanding of magic existed on an entirely different level. Unlike Damon, who learned magic only to kill more efficiently, they used it as a craft, a language, a structure. They knew it for what it was, not just what it could destroy.
At the center of the formation sat a cocoon, warped and layered with glowing seals that shimmered faintly as if breathing.
