As much as they hated the artifact, the place where it once stood had become—much to Myrkan’s amusement—their gathering spot. He couldn’t decide whether his brethren were drawn to the magic lingering around the garden patch, seeking a trace of home in that magic-less world, or if their instincts drove them to ensure no human got near… as if those pitiful creatures were capable of fixing an object shattered to pieces.
No matter the reason, whenever they were to gather, his companions picked the same spot, and the three yalari looked at Myrkan as he walked up to them with dark blood staining his claws. Trupyad’s disappearance would cause more questions and likely do more harm than admitting to have killed the sly yalari, which could serve Myrkan’s purposes if he played it right. When he sto
