His tone was clipped. Precise. The kind that measured every word before saying it.
"I'm not here to replace anyone," Lindarion said plainly. "I just want to know what's going on. Morale's low. I felt it the second I landed. You don't need more soldiers, you need a reason to keep moving."
A beat.
No one argued.
He looked at Naelira. "Have the civilians been told anything?"
"Only what they already saw. Fires. Screams. Corpses. We've tried to keep them separated from the front-line units, but rumors don't respect boundaries."
Varnel added, "We've lost six commanders in three days. People are scared."
Lindarion nodded once, steady.
Then asked the question that had been burning since he arrived.
"And the Council?"
The air changed.
Not dramatically.
But enough to notice.
Jaren finally looked up. "Gone."
"Gone where?"
