The spellcaster looked down at the illusory map of Valenfrost. He saw the magical ley lines of the world, both thick and thin, intersecting and navigating naturally throughout Valenfrost and beyond—all except one. This one was jagged, tearing through the eastern-southern part of Valenfrost like a gash. It had first been a smaller one, not significant in the grand scheme of things, but it had doubled in size the next day and had been slowly growing.

“This is abnormal… Otherworldly even,” his fellow Wizard spoke out, stroking his white goatee as he sat across the map.

“Seen nothing like this,” the spellcaster agreed.

“Should we inform the King?” A scribe asked, his eyes looking at the veteran spellcaster with worry.

“No. At least, not until we’re sure of what this is. The King already has enough problems dealing with the rest of the Lumen Kingdom.” The spellcaster sighed, lying back in his comfy velvet chair. He stroked his graying beard. “Scribe Harris, get some parchment. We’re going to send one of our own out to investigate.” The scribe nodded, hurrying away.

“Who are you planning on sending?” The other Wizard asked, curiosity in his voice. The scribe arrived quickly, parchment in hand.

“We’re going to send the ambassadors, who are already on their way to Haven. I’ll send an apology to the Frue and tell them they got caught up in pirates or something…”

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“The ambassadors? Do you mean that cryomancer and that… friend of his? Isn’t he a Lumen Knight?” The Wizard asked.

The spellcaster nodded.

“They both are, actually. I want to be sure of what we’re dealing with and reduce the risk of our scouts dying.” He glanced at the scribe, who was scribbling down on the parchment. The young scribe knew exactly what to write since he had done it enough times. He was even granted a higher status than his colleagues for it. The spellcaster gestured for the parchment, which the scribe handed to happily.

“They are unstable, aren’t they?” the Wizard asked. The spellcaster nodded again, taking a puff out of his pipe as he examined the parchment. He grabbed a quill to add a few extra details.

“They are, but they get results. Even if they are... Questionable results.”

The Wizard seemed uneasy at the answer, but he didn’t say a word as the spellcaster rested his quill aside and rolled up the parchment. The old man spoke a couple of choice words, runes appearing on the parchment before it completely burned up into flames. It would soon be sent to the ambassadors, and they would set on their mission.

“Where will you be sending them?” The Wizard asked.

“To where the breach started.” The spellcaster said simply. He leaned in to gently tap on the illusory map. The illusion shimmered, changing to examine the island the spellcaster had picked out.

“Yorktown, a small fishing town in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure we’ll find our answers there.”