Time in the Obsidian Tower did not pass—it eroded.
Day and night held no meaning in this huge hall with black ceilings, where the only light came from the glow of mystical torches.
The place was mostly silent aside from the rhythmic clang of iron boots as the Keepers made their rounds.
During this time, Hayden was the only one who was able to track time. About six months had already passed and everyone except him had lost their hope.
He watched as the proudest warriors of Lirandel were systematically unmade.
Claire Solstice, once an incredible Squire, now moved like a marionette. Her arm that would always wield her rapier was now only being lifted to pour wine for the Keepers during their "etiquette drills."
Ulysses Montclair, who had used incredible Dawn Swordsmanship and other techniques that had once lit up tournament grounds, now stood blank-eyed during combat training. At the moment, his sword strokes were still perfect but they were soulless.
