Damon
The night was alive with drunken shouts, the clash of dice, the metallic ring of blades meeting in drunken sparring matches. Leo’s camp never slept, it just shifted moods, from violence to revelry and back again.
I sat at the edge of it all, a solitary shadow at Leo’s war table. The tent was quieter now, save for the rustle of parchment beneath my fingers. The maps were worn, ink smudged from countless hands, but they were all wrong. Every weakness of Ether Pack wasn’t marked here… only I knew those.
A shadow crossed the entrance. Leo entered, the flap falling shut behind him. He carried the weight of command like a cloak, his presence cutting through the chaos outside. He poured himself another cup of wine, his eyes glinting as they found me.
“You are still here,” he said, amuse
