Adept Torvin's head snapped toward Rel. "Commander. What is the boy talking about?"
Rel did not answer. Her staff had appeared in her hands in a manner that I could not track, and a spell configuration was beginning to form above it. She did not acknowledge Adept Torvin's question as her eyes were fixed on me.
I could see the calculation and the puzzlement inside them. No doubt she was trying to reconcile how a sixteen year old Acolyte, whose history and abilities were very clear and was just here as a statistic, had gained access to information that even she did not fully yet know.
To push the knife even deeper, I kept speaking, "The Harvest," I said, filling the silence. "That's what they call it, did you know that? Orath and the Conclave. Three hundred years of preparation, and now it's almost done. Everyone here was sent here to die, all for…"
