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"No infestation recorded." Nyra answers.

"Theft?"

"Nothing."

Nyra goes still. Then slowly writes: Production normal. Output reduced. I feel my stomach tighten. Absence again. Not death. Not destruction. Something simply missing. The pattern continues. Livestock records from 416 show normal breeding. 417 shows a sudden drop in births. 418 returns almost to baseline. No epidemic. No environmental cause. A healer's public dissertation mentions temporary memory confusion in three rural settlements. A fae botanist records an entire grove blooming two weeks late. A wolf historian complains that several hunting packs abandoned traditional routes without explanation. Individually...Nothing Together...Not nothing.

Nyra spreads every document across the table. Her eyes move rapidly between them. "This isn't one event." She mutters.

"No." Cassian agrees.

"It's environmental." She continues.

"Magical." I add.

"Behavioral." Nyra nods. "And scattered." She takes a slow breath. "Which is why no one connected it."

My pulse accelerates. "Until now."

A sudden wash of warmth rolls through my chest. Not mine. I freeze. This is different from the pressure earlier. Deeper. Steadier. Not emotion exactly. Presence. I know without looking that Rhyven is near. I hate that I know. The door opens. He steps inside. I stare. He stops. "What." Nothing in his expression suggests he felt anything. That makes it worse.

"You're late." Nyra says.

Rhyven looks toward her. "I wasn't invited."

"Details."

His gaze moves to the table. Then to me. "What did you find?"

Of course. Straight to work. Nyra takes over. She explains the grain. The livestock. The botanical delays. The hunting routes. Rhyven listens without interrupting. By the end his expression has become unreadable. "417." He says.

Nyra nods. "Something happened."

"Or several things." Cassian adds.

Rhyven looks at the reports again. "Same regions?"

"Mostly western and northern Varethia." I answer. "Not only." Nyra points toward two records. "Similar anomalies appear outside Varethia."

Rhyven's head lifts. "Where?"

"Elarion. Lyssara. And one border settlement near Tiravell."

The room goes silent. That changes things. Not one kingdom. Not one ward network. Several. Rhyven pulls out the empty chair beside me and sits. The warmth in my chest sharpens. There. Again. I shift away half an inch. It doesn't help. He notices. Of course. "Problem?" He asks.

"No." His eyes narrow slightly. I look toward Nyra instead. "Could this have been an early Hollowborn event?"

She hesitates. "Maybe." Rhyven says nothing. Nyra continues. "But I'm not comfortable calling it that."

"Why?"

"Because we're working backward from a theory." She taps one report. "If we decide everything strange in 417 was Hollowborn-related, we'll start forcing evidence to fit."

Rhyven nods once. Approval. "Good." Nyra tries not to look pleased. Fails.

Cassian leans back in his chair. "So what are we actually looking for?"

Nyra turns toward the timeline. "The event everyone missed."