☽ Lucan ☾
Iseya’s lodge still smelled like broken glass and crushed herbs. The door had been repaired, but the marks on the frame remained, as if the wood itself remembered being forced open. I stood beside her small desk while she laid the scattered journals out in neat piles, her hands steady even though her eyes looked tired.
“These were here,” she said, tapping the corner of the desk. “And these were here,” she added, pointing to the empty shelf inside the cabinet. I nodded slowly.
“So, the old healer notes are gone,”
“Yes,” she replied. “Not all of them. But the ones with markings. The ones that mention unusual cases,” I took a deep breath as I surveyed the damage.
“They knew what to take,” I stated softly, and Iseya’s mouth tightened.
“That’s what scares me,” she agreed. Toge
