The heavy iron-wood doors of the council chamber clicked shut with a dull, pressurized thud, and the corridor ahead—a cavernous, sweeping stretch of ancient limestone woven with pulsing veins of living moonlight—instantly converted into a complex tactical grid.
Ivy was leaking power. It wasn't a visible thermal drip yet, but rather a structural resonance. Her unsuppressed elemental magic, severely agitated after enduring the suffocating, clashing frequencies of the High Fae delegates, was actively vibrating against the palace architecture. I didn't need to consult my data slate to understand the immediate cause; the faint, rhythmic hairline fractures tracing the polished river-stone floorboards beneath her boots provided all the physical data required. Her newly awakened core was a volati
