13
Firian
The Academy didn’t heat many fires. Some students from wealthy families wore fur-lined coats they had picked up on a visit home. Firian could have worn his Academy-issued black coat, but the cold made him feel more alive. It kept his senses sharp and muscles tense. He was almost glad he didn’t have a comfortable overcoat.
It had been a little over three years since he’d heard about his family’s death, so the thought didn’t bother him like it used to. Well, it still bothered him, but it didn’t sting anymore. The pain had dulled.
Now he had other things to worry about. He bit down hard as he passed the hall master’s room, swearing to himself. What was Tiev doing that the Masters liked so much? He couldn’t figure it out. Tiev seemed only a little better than average, and yet her
