Strax was exhausted.
It wasn't a simple tiredness, the kind that can be resolved with a night's sleep. It was the accumulated weight of weeks carrying too many responsibilities at once—Mercedes' kingdom, decisions that never seemed to end, the constant vigilance against dangers that insisted on appearing where they shouldn't… and, of course, the far north.
Thirty nights.
Almost without exception.
Scarlet wouldn't accept rest, and Strax, stubborn as always, hadn't known how to say no either.
Added to that was the hurried return, the unfinished conversations, Vex's awakening, the silent tension that now hung between people he loved. Going home should mean relief—but even that seemed to demand too much energy.
"Ah…" The sound escaped him before he even realized he was waking up.
His vision slowly adjusted to the soft light of the room, focusing on the familiar ceiling. For a moment, he stood there, motionless, just breathing, feeling his own body too heavy to move.
