The courtyard lay shrouded in pre-dawn mist, the chill curling around the cobblestones like a lingering whisper. I stood alone beneath the ancient oak by the fountain, its roots twisted and gnarled as if gripping the earth to hold the memories of centuries. My breath rose in small clouds, and the cold air carried the faint scent of damp stone, mingled with the residue of magic from the previous night’s duel. Every shadow seemed to twitch with remembered movements, every corner of this place thick with stories of lives fought and lost. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening, letting the rhythm of the estate’s quiet reach into my chest. Beyond the sleeping walls, the city murmured awake, the first creak of carts rolling over cobbles and the distant clamor of merchants stirring in the half-
