I dismissed the window and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling again.
Outside, the sun had dipped fully below the horizon. The sounds of evening had settled into a quieter rhythm, occasional footsteps, distant conversations, the creak of shutters being closed for the night.
Before I could close my eyes, a sharp voice cut through the relative quiet.
"Help!"
It was distant, muffled by walls and distance, but clear enough to make me pause.
I sat up, narrowing my eyes toward the window.
What the hell is that?
I listened for a moment longer. Nothing. Just the normal sounds of the town.
I shrugged and lay back down.
Not my problem. Greyford has guards. They can handle whatever—
"Please! Someone!"
The voice came again, closer this time, more desperate.
And with it came something else, a fluctuation in the ambient mana. Sharp, erratic, like someone casting in a panic or trying to suppress their magical signature and failing.
I frowned, sitting up again.
