They traveled in silence.
The road bent through thinning woods and long stretches of old trail. They camped once, maybe twice — Aria never asked, and Elzid never counted. The wind stayed dry, and the sky never quite cleared. A storm had passed days ago, but the tension hadn't.
Elzid didn't try to talk. He'd seen enough to know when someone needed space more than sound.
She didn't look tired. Just distant — like she was already somewhere else, walking toward it with every step.
By the time they reached Viralinn's outer walk, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows from the battlements. The Wielder Post stood tall at the edge of the square, quiet for the hour — but never still.
Aria kept walking.
Elzid slowed.
She didn't stop for him. Didn't look back. She just passed through the gate and into the building without a word, coat catching the wind behind her.
He watched her go, then leaned slightly against the low stone railing by the steps, arms crossed.
Inside, Aria moved through the main hall — quiet, efficient. A clerk looked up and gave a nod of recognition. She returned none, only passed straight through.
The door to Erine's office stood partway open.
Aria knocked once — sharp, efficient — then stepped inside.
Erine finished scribbling something onto a page, set her pen down, and finally looked up.
"You weren't expected back for couple of days."
"I walked fast."
"You always do." Erine leaned back slightly in her chair, gaze measuring. Her expression was neutral — careful, but not unreadable. "Varrin Ridge?"
"Handled."
Erine flicked to the mission board report without looking down. "The tremors stopped a few days ago. That you?"
Aria gave a small nod. "It was a Nexborn."
"Anything unusual?"
A pause.
Aria shifted her weight slightly, fingers flexing once at her side before stilling. "It mutated mid-fight. Started adapting."
That got Erine's full attention. She sat forward, elbows on the desk, her pen now forgotten between her fingers.
"How fast?"
"Faster than it should've. Burned through its Nexis. Nearly lost control."
Erine folded her arms slowly, her brow furrowing as she leaned back again, thinking. "We'll need to flag that. Might not have been a natural surge."
"It wasn't," Aria said, quieter this time. "Something had already wounded it before I got there."
Erine raised an eyebrow. "Another Wielder?"
Aria didn't answer.
She didn't flinch. Didn't nod. Just stood there — still, composed, her coat brushing softly against her boots as she exhaled once, silent.
Erine watched her for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly — not with suspicion, but something closer to understanding. She didn't press.
"Anything else?" she asked.
A beat.
Aria gave the briefest nod — more a shift of the chin than a gesture — then turned. Her boots moved in precise steps across the stone floor, and the edge of her coat brushed the doorway as she passed through. Not a glance back.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Erine let out a slow breath, ran a thumb along the rim of her desk, and stared at the paper for a long moment without reading it.
A few seconds passed.
Then a knock — sharper, deliberate.
"Enter."
Elzid stepped through the door.
Erine's hand stilled mid-motion, pen hovering just above the page.
"...I see," she said quietly.
He didn't answer right away. Just shut the door behind him with a click, then stood with both hands tucked into the sides of his coat, boots still dusted from the road. His shoulders rose and fell once — a shallow breath he didn't bother hiding.
"You tracked the same surge?" Erine asked, voice even but watchful.
"I was following it from the west," he replied. "Didn't expect to catch up."
She watched him closely, head tilting slightly. "But you did."
Elzid didn't respond.
Instead, he stepped farther into the room, slow and sure. His boots were quiet against the stone. His eyes drifted to the side wall — not to avoid her, but like he was finishing a thought he hadn't spoken yet.
"It was already wounded when she reached it," Erine said slowly. "Burns along the shoulder. A gash down the side."
A pause.
"You."
Elzid finally met her gaze.
"So she didn't tell you."
Erine leaned back slightly in her chair, the motion fluid but faintly deliberate. She exhaled, long and low through her nose — not quite a sigh. Not quite surprise, either.
"No," she murmured. "She didn't."
Another beat passed, quiet but charged.
"She left that out of the report."
"She left the whole thing out." Elzid said.
Erine's brow lifted just a fraction. Then she leaned back farther and steepled her fingers under her chin, her elbows resting on the arms of her chair. Her gaze drifted to the closed door behind him, unreadable.
A faint smile pulled at her lips — small, crooked — but it didn't reach her eyes.
Her hands dropped to the desk with a soft tap.
"Sounds like her," she said, almost to herself.