The Somatic Mana Synthesis hall smelled exactly the way it had the first time Vane walked into it.
Ozone, old iron, and something underneath both of those that was specific to a space where large amounts of mana had been discharged into stone over a long period of time. The cooling arrays in the vaulted ceiling hummed at their working frequency. The floor was the same etched basalt, geometric patterns running to the walls in precise lines that served the dual purpose of conducting output away from the structure and giving Thorne a surface he could read like a diagnostic report.
Thorne was already there.
