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Elowynn narrowed her eyes at him as he ceased his retreat, her voice almost a whisper of awe. “You understand harmonic sequences?”

“A little,” he said. He was fidgeting with the corner of the book with remarkable focus and refusing to look at her.

“That is exactly what you say every time!” Elowynn snapped, feeling frustrated.

“Yeah,” he agreed, his cheeks turning a shade of pink.

Elowynn tossed her hands and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked grumpy. “Unreal.”

That faint flush turned even darker, and Caelyn averted his gaze from her.

Agatha laughed into her teacup. “Alright, that is enough. Onto the next book.” Reaching forward, she pulled out the tome titled Chronicle of the Ash Wars.

Elowynn stiffened, her stomach roiling as she read the title.

Agatha had noticed the sudden change in her, the humor fading from her expression as she rested one hand atop the weathered tome. The leather cover was worn with use, though the silver embossing was still in good shape.

“You don’t have to read it if you aren’t ready,” Agatha said with care.

Elowynn hated that answer almost as much as she hated the title. “No,” she said quickly, straightening in her chair. She sniffed, lifting her chin. “I want to.”

That was not entirely true. Part of her wanted to shove the book as far away from herself as possible and act as though none of it existed. But another part—the same relentless curiosity that had always driven her toward forbidden shelves and difficult questions—needed to understand.

If the world was changing, then she wanted to know why.

Agatha studied her a few breaths longer before nodding once. “The Ash Wars began nearly thirty turnings ago,” she said while opening the worn cover. “Long before the Fall of Astermere Hold.”

Elowynn's stomach sank. Not before Astermere. Before Astermere fell.

“At first, most believed the Starless outbreaks were isolated incidents confined to unstable aethercurrent regions,” Agatha continued.

“They were wrong,” Elowynn murmured.

“Indeed,” Agatha agreed.

The pages crinkled as Agatha turned them. Maps filled the pages before them. Entire cities had been crossed out in faded ink. Observatory complexes she had never heard of had vanished entirely from later records.

“Elowynn,” Agatha said carefully, “do you know why they are called the Ash Wars?”

She shook her head.

“Because after the largest outbreaks, entire provinces ceased to exist in any meaningful sense. Burned cities and collapsed observatories. All the ruined currents. When survivors returned, they found only the dust of crystal and stone. It was so fine, it looked like ash blanketed the rubble.”

Agatha lifted her gaze, ensuring Elowynn was still with her as she spoke. But Elowynn had not moved a muscle; she remained staring at the tome, listening.

“The wars themselves were not fought like ordinary conflicts,” Agatha continued. “There were no borders to hold. No singular enemy army to defeat. The corruption spread through the currents beneath the earth first. Then through the people exposed to them.”

Beside the lantern table, Caelyn stood motionless, his attention fixed entirely on Agatha. One of the lanterns flickered beside him, but Elowynn barely noticed.

She felt as though she should have known these teachings already, yet she was beginning to see just how sheltered she had truly been. All her life, she had lived wrapped in the quiet safety of Astermere, never once believing the horrors whispered about beyond its walls could reach her.

Silence filled the room. It was a long moment before Elowynn spoke again, her brows knitting in confusion. “But if this began thirty turnings ago, why does it feel like everyone is only afraid now?”

Agatha and Caelyn exchanged a brief look before the Sister turned back toward her.

“Because,” Agatha answered, “for a very long time, the people of Aetheris believed the full-blooded Astrari could protect them from it.” A brief silence followed before the elder woman sighed.

“But they were wrong.”