The fog from the south came.
It was soft, but it vanished the moment the sunlight touched it.
It pulsed once like a heartbeat, and from within, a distant voice whispered faintly, too soft for anyone to hear:
"Anna…"
Then it vanished.
..
The low hum of magic filled the air as faint silver lines ran along the walls of Alvin's basement office. The place looked more like a cross between a laboratory and an old library books stacked in uneven towers, glowing stones suspended midair, and the faint aroma of herbs and coffee clinging to the air.
Alvin was standing by the central workbench, sleeves rolled up, runic chalk in hand. The containment spell he was constructing was vast it sprawled across the concrete floor, drawn in circles and lines that pulsed faintly with blue light.
