We spent the rest of the day watching Henrik prepare for limbo.
It was meticulous, obsessive work. He drew protection circles, crafted anchor charms from materials I couldn't identify, tested wards against things I couldn't see. Mara assisted, pulling out supplies from hidden caches around the safehouse.
By evening, I was exhausted just watching them.
"This is a lot of preparation," I said, as Henrik inscribed yet another protective symbol onto what looked like a simple bracelet.
"Limbo doesn't tolerate shortcuts," he said without looking up. "Every safeguard matters, every protection could mean the difference between making it back or being lost forever."
"Comforting…"
"I'm just trying to keep us alive."
Azryth had been quiet most of the day, watching the preparations with an expression I couldn't read, and I felt his unease growing.
When dinner came, courtesy of Mara's surprisingly well-stocked emergency supplies, we all gathered in what had been a dining room.
