Night fell over Erast in the usual, predictable silence. The river curled silver beneath the moonlight, the wind rustled through the trees, and the household settled into uneasy quiet. Except for three certain children, who were not at all quiet. Or settled. Or even remotely okay.
Inside her room, Imogen kicked at her blanket in frustration. Her emerald eyes glared at the ceiling as though it had personally wronged her.
"How am I supposed to sleep like this?" she grumbled, her pillow receiving the brunt of her punches. "Grandpa's not gonna visit me if I don't sleep… but I can't sleep… BECAUSE I'M BUSY BEING PUNISHED!"
On her desk lay the thickest, driest, most soul-sucking book in the entire library: The Complete History of Altara, Volume I - Revised Edition (300 Pages of Pain).
Next to it sat her quill. Bent. Broken. Betraying her.
