4
The northeastern part of Kaighal stank with sweat, fish, and rotting seaweed. Not even the sea breeze improved the air in the poorest district of the port town, and Allyv hesitated before opening windows. The asylum—a bold name given to a half-crumbling townhouse—faced the sea, but somehow the wind always brought the worst stench along, challenging even the air inside, thick with dust and urine.
Allyv claimed the top floor for his bedroom and research lab, which at rare times also served as his office, and though the air didn’t smell much better, every morning the sun sneaked in through the window and tickled his eyelids, bringing hope.
Stretching on the narrow bed, he inhaled the scent of hay in the mattress, one of the many things he had trouble getting used to. He never allowed him
