The abandoned watchtower had outlived the kingdom that built it.Astrid noticed details no one else bothered to see. The names of forgotten kings were still carved into the weathered stone, though centuries of wind and ice had worn most of the letters smooth. Moss clung stubbornly to the cracks between the blocks, and the roof had long since collapsed, leaving only broken walls that cut the worst of the mountain wind. It wasn't much, but after what they had survived, no one complained. Shelter was shelter.Morning crept slowly across the peaks, washing the snow in dull shades of blue and silver. The camp came to life one weary soul at a time. Warriors crawled from blankets stiff with frost, rubbing sleep from aching eyes while someone coaxed a reluctant fire back to life. The smell of damp wood smoke mixed with blood, leather, and bitter herbs. It wasn't pleasant, but it meant they were still alive.Cassian hadn't slept.Every time exhaustion dragged him toward unconsciousness, he fou
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