Without another thought, Adrian bolted toward his workshop.
He had no idea what had happened—but the boy wouldn't have come running, looking so pale, if it were a prank.
'An attack? Or a break-in?' he thought, rushing down the stairs. A crowd had already formed near the garden.
His eyes snapped to the small workshop at the corner—and his breath hitched.
Long, jagged slashes scarred the wooden door. Smoke billowed from within, curling into the sky like a warning.
Adrian summoned his spear and sprinted inside.
The heat struck first. Then the chaos.
The center table was torn apart, with deep gouges across its surface. Flames licked at its frame, spreading embers across scattered tools and parchment.
Adrian wasted no time. With a sharp slash of his spear, several water orbs shot out, smothering the flames in a hiss of steam.
He pushed the door open to clear the air, only to see the smoke suddenly twist together, pulled into a single orb, and whisked away.
He turned.
