~Laurent
The air inside Denzel’s house buzzed faintly with mana. What was left of the ceiling lights flickered overhead as blue arcs crawled across the crate, wrapping it in a shimmer that looked like static trapped under glass.
Silas knelt in front of it, sleeves rolled to the elbows, chalk dust coating his fingers. His hair stuck up in odd directions, eyes bright with a kind of nervous excitement that made me slightly uneasy.
“Alright,” he muttered, drawing another sigil on the floorboards. “If this works, the magic from the crate should respond to the mana circuit and form a line to its sister enchantments.”
Denzel stood beside me with his arms crossed. “And if it doesn’t?”
“Then we start again.” Silas grinned, too cheerful for what we were doing.
Ivelle crouched beside him, watch
