"We're heading out." Zephyr's voice was low, cutting through the muted thrum of the castle. Aeron, already halfway down the corridor, nodded in agreement.
"Take care," I said, a subtle nod in their direction.
My gaze followed them for a moment, watching their figures disappear around a bend before I retracted my attention and made my way to my own destination.
The vastness of the keep stretched out before me, a labyrinth of shadow and stone. Here, amidst the quietude, the rhythmic howl of the Ashenfang Whitefall had become the constant backdrop to our lives within the keep.
And five days had passed since the blizzard clamped down, and with each dawn, life inside the obsidian walls settled deeper into a mundane, almost repetitive rhythm.
My father...
I caught myself, exhaling slowly through my nose.
No.
Not father. Not here, not now.
Not until the right time comes.
