Kael hovered in the air for a few more moments, silently observing the ruins of the once magnificent Elven Kingdom. The dome of Luminiência still pulsed faintly around him, like the last breath of a candle about to be extinguished. Sustained by his willpower, the magic acted as a tenuous shield between sanity and madness. But he knew—it was only a bandage over a much deeper wound.
He sighed.
Long. Heavy.
He closed his eyes, and then... he dove in.
His aura exploded out of his body like a silent storm—an ethereal wave that spread throughout the elven capital. Invisible to ordinary eyes, it danced through the broken streets, penetrated the shattered stones, enveloped the twisted branches, and touched the sleeping bodies with the delicacy of an ancient lament.
But Kael wasn't looking for magic.
She was looking for intent.
She was looking for the mental signature of the one who sowed chaos.
