Asra stared intently at the screens, absorbing the information they contained. At the same time, the Headmaster's words rang true. Much of what she had seen had been caused, whether directly or indirectly, by the failing of the wards. The rifts between pages. The missing memories and missing people. The shades. The riots... Cayla...Rothenend steeples his fingers, bringing them to his lips as he studies Asra impassively. "Everything. Nothing. And all of it at once," he says finally. "You obviously saw some of these things when you walked in. You've seen some of these things even here, behind the Wards, though you may not have realized it. Things we've come to rely on, everyday items whose enchantments we've never given a second thought to, fail in unexpected ways. People appear and disappear with memories of events that have never happened, of people that have never existed."
He turns and gestures at the wall opposite the door and images once again spring into existence, a mosaic of scenes in a dozen different locations, none of them the same as those Asra glimpsed when she first came in. Some of them seem quite normal: a slice of everyday life from before the war. Some of them are unbelievable: storms in unnatural hues that sweep across landscapes like something out of a fever dream.
With Cayla in her mind, she feels she recognizes some of the scenes before her. From descriptions from Eldarin of Cayla's visions. Of the visions she gathered for Rothenend.
She steels her heart, placing a hand over her chest where Cayla's ashes lay, and reminds herself that she shouldn't trust this man. No matter what.
She brings her gaze back to the Headmaster, resolution in her eyes, as she listens to him. "So, the device must be studied regardless of Adaye's intentions," she agrees. "Whatever risk it poses, we have to find a way to either negate it, or turn it to our advantage. If you could become another anchor, even a temporary one, we might stave off potential destruction another day.""The Wards protect us from the worst of this... unmooring that the rest of the world is experiencing. But even here in Meriava, our anchor is slipping. Without a way to keep us tied to the dock, we may yet go adrift. Without the Wards, we're a cork bobbing free in a raging storm."
He studies the wall for a moment, gestures it blank once more, then turns back to Asra. "The hardest part, the thing that keeps me awake at night, is that none of it is constant. What is real and true on one day might change a day later, a week later, a month later. Or not at all. How do we rebuild when what we build might not be there tomorrow? When reality itself is subjective?"
He stabs a finger atop the table. "That is what is so dangerous about Master Adaye playing around with this... device. The potential for it to affect the Wards, to let the outside in, is a risk I cannot accept. Not until we've determined how to firmly anchor ourselves in reality again."
She looks down, pensively, still considering. Still thinking. "If this is the case, and all of this is happening, and not happening, and... whatever it is... Then wouldn't it be prudent to bring this information to other leaders within the city?" She heads him off before his inevitable argument. "Not the public, certainly. Such information would only serve to frighten them, and any with family outside of the wards might be galvanized by the information and attempt to bring the wards down anyway. But the leaders of the rioters, and of the city, and most certainly of the college itself should be made aware."
"If we can bring them all together, or at least placate some of the troublemakers, then we can cease fighting a war on two fronts, and focus on this catastrophe with the attention it demands."
