Cyne had soaked in all he could about the Sundering while he explored the tower with Elara, and could feel it's effects. Even now, surrounded by the potential power of all the young mages in this very room, the air was stale compared to his own realm. The lack of magic in the air was something he'd adapted to rather quickly, he could still use his magic so it was hardly a bother. It just felt different, and this particular style of different did feel wrong. The Sundering had definitely been unnatural, and caused by magic itself ironically. But it didn't help explain what happened. His own realm's air seemed so saturated, but even if he were in his own realm, he couldn't think of how to bring a dead dragon back to life.<br/><br/>From the students' chatting though, he started to piece together what he thought Caldwyn might be suggesting. Although some of the students had went on about using magic on the dragon itself, none seemed to have suggest giving the dragon magic. Sheer magical force, the very air and aura being a mage commanded. Thinking back to his own training with magic back when he was just a young boy. All the conversations about bonds there had been, how if he were to marry, if there was a fire mage to bond him with of royal status... Maybe bonds of magic worked different here. Caldwyn had mentioned pairing the children, and he knew even in his realm, two mages of other elements could bond and develop an affinity for their partners magics.<br/><br/>So absorbed in thought as he was, he hadn't even noticed when Caldwyn stepped away, instead retreating into his own mind. The droning of the children around him fed him their thoughts, but it was like a subtle hum in the distance as his mental energy went to thinking about it. Could such a beast be bonded to? Or whatever equivalent form of magic sharing this realm had, if it had one. He imagined the amount of magic that'd require would be immense, something even more than a fully grown and highly trained mage like himself could ever hope to possess.<br/><br/>**************<br/><br/>The castle was starting to loom the closer Sybil got to it. The sheer amount of space it took up struck her. This castle didn't compose of the sky reaching towers and spirals to the heavens. It looked more like someone had taken a castle, and spilled it onto the land. Even with how far away she still was, the land before her seemed to stretch on forever with the mysterious architecture. She knew some where in this sprawling landscape was Prince Cyne. But more worrisome, she knew that crawling in that landscape was an entire civilization of vampires. If she could even call it a civilization. But the flat city before her probably held more vampires than she'd seen in her entire time as one of Prince Cyne's Highest Guard.<br/><br/>It worried her that she had no idea where he was, or where she'd even start looking. This arid landscape was almost hellish in appearance she thought, the bloody sky and dead wasteland surrounding her. There had never been quite this feeling of emptiness when they'd fought the vampires before. But the lack of life in this realm, the utter nothingness in the air, it was horrifically suffocating. Like every thing she knew about how the worlds worked didn't apply here. The realm was almost as lifeless as the many leeches who'd tried to rip out her throat during the war.<br/><br/>She took refuge under a thick brush, and took her pack out. Digging through it for her snacks, she found the little morsel she'd brought. It was just some hard breads, and she had grown accustomed to it's taste, but the dry crumbs in her mouth reminded her a bit of this realm. She almost had trouble swallowing as she curled up under that bush, a single tear swelling in her eye. What if Prince Cyne was already gone? There wasn't any way she'd be able to accept that. But these leeches didn't have compassion, they didn't have mercy. They were beasts, beasts in the shape of something almost human.