Chapter 54

• Atlas
• The moon rose slowly over Blackwood’s northern towers, casting a muted silver glow through the frost-kissed windows of my room. Its pale light slithered across the thick patterned carpet, glinting off scattered reports on my desk, illuminating the cracked spine of an abandoned textbook near my boots. Shadows stretched along the walls like silent witnesses to my unrest.
• I sat in the leather chair by the window, elbows braced on my knees, fingers woven tightly together as I stared out at the sleeping grounds below. From here, I could see the faint lamplights near the east gate, the stone courtyard wrapped in thin mist, the looming outline of the forest’s edge beyond the training grounds. The air felt stagnant tonight. Like it held its breath with me.