In a shadow-drenched room where not even candlelight dared flicker too brightly, Elara stood in silence, arms folded across her chest.
The walls pulsed faintly with layered wards, humming like a living heartbeat.
Before her, a projection shimmered into clarity—Horus, kneeling, his hands still glowing from prayer, his expression too calm.
"Report. How is the progress going on your end? Have you found anything—anything at all—about Solarin's partner or Cyrene this time?"
Elara said without pleasantries.
Horus remained still for a moment, his pink eyes flickering slightly in the dim magical light.
"You ask the same question every time."
He said with a sigh.
"You must have patience, Elara. I'm doing what I can, but with the limitations set by this plane, there's only so much I can dig up before the safeguards force me to step back."
Elara frowned.
"We don't have the luxury of time, Horus. Every moment we waste gives them more room to twist the threads. You know that."
