A dreadful silence.
Despair coated with the thick sweetness of fear. Burnt resolve is on the verge of dissipating. However, Moulin sealed them away. Kept his chest tight and the uncontrollable pound of his beating heart. He looked at his two companions, absorbing the information into his mind.
The core has been invaded. By who? By what? Malibreeds. If the niche is touched, it will shatter. The core will fade. The soul, corrupted. The Tree, dead. The islands...
Moulin paled. Silver eyes quivered, and his voice almost shook as he found his words. "I will go."
The elf and seer did not have the chance to react as Moulin already hastened to the doors. Behind him, Keir followed. Phaelona wanted to come with him, but Colahn's tight grip around her wrist refrained her.