Harmonia Lyrae

Tristram quickly left The Glaudium after thanking the strange duo. 

The presence of the little boy, in particular, had been unnerving enough to make him want to flee the moment he opened his eyes. Still, he couldn't help but stay and talk to him, like an urge that crawled out of his deepest instincts. 

He felt awe, expectation, and reverence, yet didn't know why. The boy called Meilyr couldn't have been stronger than an Occultist, but the gap between them seemed wider than what it really should have been.

Memories flickered in his mind of the first magus that had aided him—the red sky, the scorched soil, and his burning eyes as he cackled from a scrying too dangerous.

"Your path will come," he had screamed amidst agony and epiphany. "My death is the price," he then declared, his body slowly withering. 

Tristram shook his head, dismissing those thoughts.