"I prefer to think of it as aggressive, unsolicited enrichment. Now, run along. The portal is closing, and I have a great deal of plotting to do. Tell the Elders I send my deepest, most insincere regards."
With a flick of Roan's wrist, the mana around Elias violently snapped shut.
The envoy didn't even have time to scream before the spatial fold collapsed, sucking the terrified, stressed-out mage back to the Eastern Spire, leaving his glowing clipboard clattering on the floor.
Roan Charte stood alone on the balcony.
He looked down at his own hand.
He remembered the feeling of the tiny girl's presence. The echo of Cecil.
The terrifying, delightful glare of the Northern Reaper.
