The next morning, Nina woke up with a dull ache pressing behind her eyes. Her body felt rested, but her mind was anything but.
As soon as she sat up, the memories from the previous day came crashing down like a wave—Elara's face, the collapsing dungeon, Solarin's silence. Instinctively, she reached out mentally for her Patron.
Nothing.
The silence was immediate and absolute.
Nina's breath hitched, her heart skipping for a moment before her mind reminded her:
'He said he'd be gone until noon.'
She exhaled, the reminder anchoring her. She knew this silence was expected—but that didn't mean she liked it.
Without Solarin's voice, the world felt too quiet.
She pushed back the covers and got up, her limbs heavy with something she couldn't quite name.
The air felt off, like it was pressing in around her, and even the usual comfort of her room offered little relief.
She thought about staying in bed. Letting the morning slip past in a blur of ceiling-staring silence.
