The days had accumulated like rainfall collecting in a basin, each one adding to the whole until suddenly the basin was full and a month had passed without anyone quite noticing the transition from beginning to middle to end.
The Academy's rhythm had become second nature to all of them: wake before dawn, train until muscles burned, attend classes that challenged mind rather than body, return for more training, collapse into meditation or sleep, repeat.
The cycle was brutal and beautiful simultaneously, grinding away weakness while revealing strength nobody had known existed beneath the surface.
Raze stood in the training yard on the morning of day thirty-one, watching his kingdom members go through their conditioning routine with precision that would have been impossible a month ago.
