SKYE'S POV
The final evening of the autumn trade summit brought a rare, luminous stillness to Nighthaven. The massive influx of traveling merchants, independent clans, and southern diplomats had begun packing up their colorful pavilions and loading their trade wagons before dawn, leaving the lower meadows quiet once more. Yet, the energy lingering within the stone fortress was anything but subdued. It was the rich, contented exhaustion of a community that had tested its strength against the world and emerged victorious.
I sat at the heavy oak desk in our private chambers, though the ink pots were tightly capped and the piles of parchment scrolls had finally been cleared away. Only a single leather-bound journal remained open before me, its pages filled with neat, sprawling notes about sp
