"Go out! Out of the manor—now!"
Arienne's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent. She pushed past everyone, forcing them toward the doors as if her life depended on it—no, as if all of ours did.
"Hurry!" she snapped. "No one stays inside."
The air was already changing. The walls groaned faintly, frost creeping along the corners like something alive.
"Auren," Arienne said, gripping his arm as he struggled to keep Thalor upright. "The healing… Can you do it outside?"
Auren hesitated. "Outside?"
"I don't think Lucian will restrain his power this time," she said, swallowing hard. "You know how it ended before."
Auren's face went pale.
"I know," he said quietly.
Another crack echoed through the manor, it was deep and structural. Not just ice forming, but pressure, like the world itself was being forced to bend.
"Move!" Arienne ordered again.
They didn't argue this time.
