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"Until the line."

"Then?"

"Gone." His expression changes. I have never seen Dax look like that. Not afraid. Offended. Like someone has violated a fundamental law of his body.

Nyra looks toward the historical map. "Tiravell's old reports mentioned animal abandonment first." Everyone turns. She knows. Of course she knows.

"How long before disappearances?" My father asks.

Nyra checks. "Two days." Silence. No.

"That's encouraging." Cassian mutters. No one responds.

The Council acts immediately. Lyssara warned. Again. Elarion updated. Sythara, medusa territories, notified. Dravaryn, dragons territories, placed on standby. Tiravell ordered to establish continuous perimeter monitoring. No one waits for proof anymore. Good. Too late for comfort.

Training is not cancelled. I almost laugh when the schedule remains posted as if the world expanding toward war is somehow unrelated to my nine o'clock combat block. Apparently it is not.

Rhyven catches me outside the chamber.

"Vaelith."

I stop. "What."

"You're on western drill."

"I know."

"Don't skip."

I stare. "You think I'd skip training because Tiravell's forest went silent?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're nosy." I open my mouth. Close it. Fair.

"You?" I ask.

"Chief briefing."

"Again?"

"Again."

"Do you ever attend class anymore?"

"No."

"Jealous."

"Don't be." The answer comes too quickly. I look at him. He doesn't explain.

Western drill is brutal. Not because of difficulty but because nobody is focused. Students whisper between rounds. Tiravell. Forests. Magic. Route. War.

Professor Vayne hears enough by the third repetition.

He stops the exercise. Looks at all of us. "If you require silence to think, you are useless."