Elidor arrived at the Citadel to find the interior almost as cold as it was outside. Without the luxury of magically-imbued heating elements the wizards staffing the building had built up small fires in many of the main communal areas of the complex, but his own chamber was clearly not one of them. He was pleased then to find a steaming cup of tea waiting for him on his desk. He was almost about to ask the young messenger to show their guest in, but then spotted her sitting comfortably behind his desk. Elidor didn't need foresight to know the face hidden under the cowl. He could recognise Freya anywhere.The Lintari stood as he entered, and vacated his seat. As she did, she allowed her hood to fall away to reveal a face that set the Seer's heart racing even now, over two decades since they had last met. She hadn't aged a day.She was stunning there could be no doubt. Yet despite her beauty, and despite her almost unrivalled talents, even for a member of the Lintari, her blue eye

The trawler rocked gently as cold winds buffeted it from the east. Though a passenger craft by trade, its rooms were instead filled with provisions crates of aid sent from the mainland to provide what meagre support they could for the residents of the ancient 'Isle. Aside from the small crew, the forlorn trawler carried only three passengers: two of whom stood out on deck, huddled together for warmth, lost in their own bleak thoughts.Though he was without sight, Aaron stared out into the distance, out into the impenetrable dark that marked the boundaries of his world. "A storm is coming." Beside him, Lena stirred. "What makes you say that?""You can't feel it?""I can't feel a thing," she replied. Aaron nodded and squeezed her hand a little tighter. It had been a stupid question. They had both been struggling of late, but these last few days Lena had been suffering particularly. She had always been so strong, but now, confronted by the absence of her gift the absence of her

Their journey by sea took longer than they hoped. Choppy seas and a darkness few Captains would have dared to come to port in meant the trawler crept its way into harbour with as little sail as the Captain could muster, and more than a small amount of luck. Lena stood as she had done for much of the journey, staring out into the distance, one hand gripped firmly to the hand rail, the other placed firmly in Aaron's own. Though she knew he was keen to learn what she saw, she did her best to delay her response. As she considered her words, Callum emerged onto deck to join them. His eyes were red and bloodshot. "Ready?" he asked.Lena nodded. They hurried down the boarding plank and along the pier towards an area where crates were being unloaded onto carts. Aaron looked anxious."What do you see? It's bad, isn't it? I can tell you know; you don't have to hide anything from me."Lena stopped and sighed, pulling Aaron aside as carts laden with supplies ferried goods into the city or wh

Varrus folded his arms and allowed himself a small sigh of satisfaction. Far below him, stretched out along the length of the coast, his vast army was arranged and ready for battle. To his left, along the island's northern shore, a horde of winged furies stood waiting his instruction, biting and gnashing their jaws in anticipation. He had already unleashed an initial wave of the demon creatures, and if the results of the first attack were anything to go by, he might not even need to call upon the larger creatures he had added to the furies' ranks. A little way down the shore his personal cadre of hell-forged demons loomed ominously above the smaller creatures. Of all his creations these were the most powerful, though it would be with his ceramic warriors that the war would be won. Silent, relentless and incredibly strong, his ceramic constructs were all but impervious to traditional arms, forged as they were in the heat of the volcano. Though they lacked the speed and tenacity of the

The archives were strangely silent. Where normally Lena would have expected to see teams of mages working diligently at their desks, now all that remained were stacks and stacks of untended books. The more she thought about it, the more the thought of the empty archives made her sad. She drew in a deep breath and turned her attention back to the task at hand. All around her lay scattered manuscripts and piles of notes she had furiously scribbled as she sought to make some sort of sense out of everything that had happened. Her current line of research followed a rather radical theory that the sources were not "sources" at all, but more like sluices, or dams that controlled the flow of magic into the world. From her perspective at least, the theory seemed sound, however many centuries had passed since then and the theory had fallen out of favour. Information on the subject was incredibly hard to come by; though at least she was having better luck than the Seer.A short distance away, at