Summersong

This was one of those times when he wished his guesses were wrong, and his frown deepened in both sympathy and worry at the news. "No pattern?" He murmured, focusing on the problem instead of his feet, and therefore traveling more directly for a change than he normally managed. "Are there any that were alive before the Barrier was raised, who we could ask?" A diplomatic way of saying that she looked young of face, but old in power. He had no idea how long Fae could live, or whether there were others - such as the Tulmhainar Amalia had mentioned - who might have first-hand knowledge. "I did not mean to suggest a Fae was behind it," he apologized. "So much as wondering if they would recognize the type of magic, if such destruction was limited to those who had been contained within the barrier. But since they would, I'm sure they're already considering that angle."

He bit his lip, weighing the bits and pieces of information, and a heavy weight settled in his gut as they refused to form any sort of coherent picture. A possible cause, but no way to prove it. No motive that he could see. And how much of it was his own bias clouding his conjectures?

"If you haven't seen it before, then the human archives may have little to offer," he admitted at last, with a heavy sigh. "But I will look through them anyways. Any small piece that might help is worth pursuing. Thank you, great lady, for your patience." He paused to offer her a gracious bow, careful as always with the respect he showed the powerful Wild Fae. "I hope I will have better news for you when next we meet."