Argolaith stood near the edge of the pond as the frogs splashed playfully beneath the rising light of Elyrion's twin stars.
The blue one leapt high into the air, trailing a faint shimmer of mana behind it.
He watched them for a while, arms crossed, thoughts turning. Their magic was growing. Not wild yet, but unpredictable.
It wouldn't take much for a playful burst to turn dangerous.
He knelt and traced a shallow line in the soft earth with his fingertip.
A breath later, the cube hovered beside him, releasing a small thread of mana. Argolaith guided it carefully, weaving the beginnings of a rune array in a wide circle around the pond.
He used stabilizing runes first—ones that reacted to sudden magical flux.
Then came the pacifiers, subtle enchantments that absorbed stray mana before it could form a spell.
Lastly, he added a pulse anchor, a tiny gem infused with neutral mana to keep the whole formation humming gently, like a lullaby beneath the water.
