Abram looks annoyed, but he can’t refuse. This is a conference—collaboration is mandatory. He slides the map toward me, and I study it carefully.
Yes, the dot is reddish and flickering. Under normal circumstances, it might indicate advancement. But something is off. The flicker alternates—one second blue, one second red. It isn’t the steady red we’re trained to monitor.
I examine the location more closely. It’s the House of Estus. I’m not particularly familiar with it, but its layout is strikingly similar to that of the House of Jubal. I place my finger over the flickering dot.
“What is this location?” I ask.
Abram looks at me again, his voice condescending.
“The armory. That’s exactly why I brought this up today. He’s in the armory. He could be armed and dangerous. We should act immediately.”
Elysand narrows his eyes. That isn’t protocol. Protocol dictates that a color-changing dot must be observed over time before any conclusions are drawn.
“How long has he been in the armory?” I ask. My questions are genuine. I don’t understand why Abram seems so agitated.
“Since this morning,” he says. “I believe this constitutes an act of war.”
Something still doesn’t sit right with me.
“An armory houses a House’s most valuable possessions—many of them mystical, immensely powerful. Could proximity alone be affecting the warrior’s energy signature?” I ask.
Abram’s eyes widen. Then anger flashes across his face.
“Are you implying I’m wrong?” he snaps.
“No-no,” I say quickly. “I was just considering the possibility that maybe—well, the color isn’t fully red and—” I trail off, regretting opening my mouth at all. I should have stayed quiet.
Then Elysand slams his hand on the table.
“Abram. This is exactly why you come to me first. I would have told you to assess it further before raising it here.”
Abram mutters something under his breath.
Elysand summons the map to himself and studies it carefully. He looks at the same indicators I did, then shakes his head. He raises the map so everyone can see.
“What color is the dot now?” he asks sharply.
The dot has moved away from the armory. The red flicker fades until it turns entirely blue.
Abram stares at it, speechless. “But—itwasred.”
“It was not fully red,” Elysand says calmly. “Nykander is correct. Tell me, did you read the manual I required everyone to read?”
Abram blinks. “Yes,” he mutters.
“I don’t think you did,” Elysand replies. “If you had, you would know that proximity to powerful artifacts can skew an individual’s energy signature. This has happened before, and it will happen again. That is why we follow a hierarchy when addressing such matters.”
“I understand,” Abram says quietly, staring at the floor as he sinks back into his chair.
“For tomorrow,” Elysand adds, “I want a full report on the manual—handwritten. You are not permitted to copy it. Read it, memorize it, and then write it.”
He straightens. “This conference is concluded.”
Elysand is the first to leave, followed by the more senior males. As I stand to go, Abram shoots me a venomous look.
“Keep your mouth shut,” he mutters as he shoves past me.
The other rookies stare at me as though I’ve betrayed them.
