Round 236

The chamber air crackled with residual magic, the aftermath of Seraphine’s binding spell. Jeane circled the sphere warily, her wings tucked close against her back—too exhausted for flight, too anxious to remain still. “Talk me through this,” she said sharply. “What did you actually see in that vision?” The elf woman’s face remained distant, her eyes fixed on some internal horizon Jeane couldn’t access. “Threads,” Seraphine repeated softly. “Temporal anchors we need to align with celestial patterns.” She gestured toward the glowing map on the far wall. “Those points represent the moons—full, waxing, waning. We have to cast in perfect sequence or the entire structure collapses.” Jeane felt her stomach drop. Collapse was the last thing they needed—the tower already seemed ready to crumble at any moment. “Perfect sequence,” she echoed weakly. “And you’re sure this is even possible after what happened last time?” Seraphine’s gaze finally snapped to meet hers, sharp and unwavering. “I’m sure.” Her voice held no trace of doubt. “But we only have one shot left before the energies destabilize completely.”