Walking away from the observatory felt like breaking the surface of a deep, cold lake and into the sun. The profound, engineered silence of the old wing dissolved with every step, replaced by the faint, familiar hum of the estate's modern power core. The sterile, chilled air warmed, the sound-dampening stone underfoot gave way to plush carpets, and the cosmic starlight was replaced by the soft, golden glow of residential sconces. The quiet back there wasn't an absence of noise; it was a powerful spell designed to insulate the Seer from the rest of the world.
Isolde had taken a great weight from me, and replaced it with another. The crushing burden of a predetermined fate was gone, but in its place was the terrifying, absolute freedom of a man who had to write his own. And yet, I felt lighter. Clearer. The path ahead was no less dangerous, but for the first time, it felt entirely my own.
