Alistair POV
For a moment after hitting the ground, I simply lie there staring at the ceiling.
Not because I'm hurt.
Because my brain refuses to accept what just happened.
"What the hell just happened"
Alistair and I had spoken at the same time.
Like the both of us had the same thought in our heads.
The stone floor of the Arcanum's training chamber is cold beneath my back. Above me, ancient runes glow faintly along the curved ceiling, their pale blue light steady and unchanged.
Which makes the last few seconds even harder to process.
I push myself upright slowly.
Across the chamber Cassian is already standing, adjusting the sleeve of his coat like he didn't just get dropped six feet onto solid stone.
Sarafina still stands in the center of the runic circle.
Frozen.
Her hand still half-raised, trembling slightly, like she doesn't even remember lifting it.
Her eyes are wide with fear.
