Sadie
The next morning rises far too quickly.
I barely sleep. Maybe an hour or two, but I drag myself to the training grounds anyway. If I stay in my room any longer, I’ll drown in my own thoughts. I need movement. I need air. I need something to quiet the ache sitting like a stone in my chest. I need to train.
The field is empty, dew glittering on the grass, the early sun a pale smear in the sky. I stretch my fingers and call the scepter. It appears instantly, no hesitation, no delay, the golden-white light curling around my hand like it’s been waiting.
I swear I’ll never get used to feeling it in my hands. I’ll never get used to having it answer to my calls… but something feels off today.
The moment my fingers curl around the staff, a pulse shoots up my arm, sharp and electric, alm
