[: 3rd POV :]
The following morning came quietly, though Fendrick couldn't feel the peace it carried.
He sat by the dorm window, the sunlight brushing against his skin, and yet his chest felt heavy.
His knuckles still bore faint bruises, reminders of yesterday's beating, and of the screams that had echoed before everything turned still.
He glanced at Daniel, who sat by his bed polishing his blade, his expression calm, collected… almost detached.
How could someone appear so normal after doing what he did?
Fendrick clenched his jaw, but said nothing.
He knew it wasn't right to pry, everyone had secrets.
And judging from Daniel's eyes that night, some secrets weren't meant for mortals to touch.
Still… the question burned in his chest.
"...You're staring,"
Daniel said suddenly, voice quiet yet sharp.
Fendrick jolted.
"H-Huh? No, I wasn't!"
Daniel smirked faintly.
"You're a terrible liar. What is it?"
Fendrick scratched his neck, his eyes shifting away.
