Gordon stood still, unmoving for a long second. His breath came slow and heavy, fists clenched at his sides as his sharp gaze swept across the corridor. He reached out with his senses, attuning himself to the ambient Myst—searching for lingering traces of movement, spellwork, or presence.
Nothing solid.
Just a faint ripple in the current of Myst, like the wake of something fast and unnatural passing through.
"…This signature… it feels like Spatial magic," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "But that can't be. Or… can it?"
He paused, mind racing.
"No," he said more firmly. "The academy records only list fire affinity. Not even a hint of Spatial. So either he's hiding something… or someone's helping him."
His frown melted into a sly, cold smirk.
"Well, well… Liam Hunter. Looks like you're finally becoming interesting."
