For once the train ride to the academy didn’t put Zorian to sleep. He had subtly prodded Mother with some sensitive topics when she tried to scold him for shutting himself in his room that morning, and he was pretty sure by the time he boarded the train that he wasn’t experiencing some kind of elaborate illusion, unless the illusionist was aware of some very closely kept family secrets. And he felt far too lucid for this to be an induced hallucination. As far as he could tell at the moment, he really had traveled back in time. He spent most of the train ride writing down everything of importance he could think of in one of his notebooks. He didn’t really think the memories were going to fade any time soon, but it helped him organize his thoughts and notice details he might have otherwise m
