The smell of ink and old parchment filled the air, the candlelight flickering low across the table where Lord Vicar sat surrounded by ancient texts. Jasper had been listening or at least, trying to as Vicar went over old accounts of the Tirade's movements, their spies scattered across the kingdoms. His mentor's voice was steady and low, but the words had long faded into a dull hum in Jasper's ears.
Because something was wrong, he could feel it. With the bond they shared he can sense even feel her emotions just as well she she could feels his.
It started as a faint tug at the base of his chest a thread tightening, pulsing once, twice, before it turned sharp.Jasper froze mid-sentence, the quill in his hand snapping between his fingers.
Vicar's eyes flicked up. "Jasper?"
