TRYSTAN.
I woke up so tired that I could barely move my legs. My body felt heavy, like I had been running all night without rest. The room was too quiet, and that was strange.
During excursions, students always stayed up late. They would laugh, make loud jokes, build a fire, and dance around it. The cold was never a reason to sleep. It was just an excuse to party.
Then I remembered that Sir Azrael was not among the teachers who came for this excursion. That thought alone changed everything. It was still hard to believe that he was in a coma.
No one ever imagined that the great Azrael could fall, let alone be lying helpless in a hospital bed. He was strong. Untouchable. Seeing him reduced to that felt wrong, like the world had shifted from its place.
I slowly sat up on my bed, hoping to see my temporary roommate sleeping on the couch. But the couch was empty. My thick brows pulled together as I tried to focus my sleepy eyes. The room felt too still, too empty.
