Chapter 11: Echoes That Don’t Fade
The lamp's beam hit the fragment once more.
Leon examined it in his fingers, slowly and cautiously. The edge remained excessively sharp. It remained sharp even after being in his pocket for three days. It also did not reflect the light correctly—like glass at one moment, then polished bone the next.
It had no place in this world. He was aware of that.
He tucked it back into the inner fold of his tunic and stood up.
The bruises remained taut over his ribs. His shoulders were in pain. However, it has become boring now. Diminishing. The type of pain that allowed him to move once more.
He exited the barracks via the side entrance.
The courtyard remained silent. Fog continued to hover at the ground, and the torches along the walls had diminished to faint glimmers. No sounds. No noise of arms. Only the wind against the stone and the soft rustle of banners above.
Leon walked past the training ring, unoccupied for a change.
His feet continued to move.
Beyond the smithy. Beyond the northern garden trail. Towards the center of the manor.
He did not knock upon arriving at the armory. He simply opened the sturdy door and walked in.