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"It's enough." Caelen looks at me.

I raise both hands. "Don't involve me." I say before he does.

"You two spend too much time together."

Something strange flickers through the bond. Amusement. Not mine. I turn toward Rhyven. His expression is blank. Absolutely blank. Liar. Caelen notices me looking at him. Then looks between us. Slowly. "...What?" He asks.

"Nothing." Rhyven and I say together.

Caelen freezes. Nyra does too. Cassian starts laughing. My face heats.

Rhyven looks deeply unimpressed. "This table has become inefficient." Then stands. Coward.

The bond follows him. Faintly. Until he crosses the dining hall. Then weakens. Not gone. Just distant. I track the sensation without meaning to. East. Command corridor. Gods. I know where he's going. Without seeing him. Nyra leans toward me. "You are going to tell me."

I look at her. "Tell you what?"

"Whatever that was." She points toward where Rhyven was.

"Nothing happened."

She stares. I hold her gaze. Five seconds. Ten. Finally— "Fine." She says. "I'll figure it out myself." That is not reassuring.

The afternoon becomes a blur of old botanical records. Nyra finds the first significant clue two hours later. A public farming ledger from 415. Two years earlier. A vineyard near the northern border reported an impossible overnight blanching of leaves. Not death. Not frost. The leaves simply lost color. For six hours. Then returned to normal. No explanation. One year later a wolf pack abandoned a hunting route twenty miles south. Then livestock births dropped. Then crops vanished from shipment counts. Then memory disruptions. Then ward irregularities. Nyra spreads the dates across the table. Her face has gone pale. "It didn't start in 417."

Cassian swallows. "No."

"It started before."

I look toward the earliest report. 415. "How much before?"

"We don't know." Then she finds something worse. A margin note. Not official. Written by a botanist beside the report. Three words. Again this year. Silence. Cassian leans closer. "Again?"

Nyra nods slowly. "Which means..." I already know. "It happened before 415."

The room suddenly feels too small. This isn't eighteen months. This isn't one isolated period. Whatever happened before the Silent War it may have been building for years. Quietly. Incrementally. Exactly like now. My pulse begins racing. Fear. Mine. Then another sensation answers. Immediate. Sharp. Concern. Not mine. Rhyven. I freeze. He's nowhere near me. Yet he feels that. My fear. The realization hits so hard I almost lose my breath.

Nyra looks up. "Eirea?"

"I'm fine."

The concern intensifies. Damn it. Then footsteps sound outside. Fast. Measured. The door opens. Rhyven. He scans the room once. Finds me immediately. Not Nyra. Not Cassian. Me. His shoulders loosen so slightly no one else should notice. I do. Of course I do. He steps inside. "What happened?"

Cassian blinks. "How did you know something happened?"

Silence. Rhyven looks at him. "I didn't." Liar.

A terrible one, apparently. Nyra's eyes narrow. I stare at Rhyven. He stares back. Neither of us says anything. The bond pulses faintly between us. Concern fading. Relief taking its place. My stomach drops. This is getting stronger. Nyra saves us. "We moved the timeline."

Rhyven's attention shifts. "How far?"

"At least two years." She slides the ledger toward him. "Probably more."

He reads the margin note. Once. Again. His expression hardens. "This isn't recurrence."

Cassian frowns. "What?"

Rhyven sets the ledger down. "If the same signs appear years apart before the war..." He looks toward the timeline. "Then something was active long before anyone recognized the threat."