No one stopped him. Of course, he wouldn't.
His gaze slid briefly to Vaeron—just a flicker, just enough—before returning to Acheron. "The attack wasn't clean. Not like the others we've seen,"
Acheron said nothing, but the subtle tightening of his grip on the staff was enough to urge him on.
"The creatures were there, yes. From their level of destruction, we could deduce that those were the Phantoms. They breached the ward, spread through the fair, did exactly what they were meant to do," His fingers tapped lightly against the table. "But they weren't the most interesting part,"
Elder Acheron's gaze sharpened. "Was it the part where the Vespera splinted the earth, or where this… light was born from?" He asked, the dangerous curiosity in his tone indicating his absolute interest.
"The light wasn't summoned," he added, almost idly, taking him slightly aback. "Not in the way we understand summoning. There was no structure to it, nor control, or even restraint,"
