FLASHBACK — THREE DAYS AGO
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Inside Sage's bedroom, a single oil lamp near the window cast a warm golden glow, its steady flame creating long shadows that softened the furniture's sharp edges into something almost contemplative.
The room was neither extravagant nor plain; it reflected its owner's character, practical yet subtly indulgent, orderly but with hints of eccentricity.
Papers were meticulously stacked on a side table, while maps marked in red ink lay half-rolled at the edge of a desk. In the center of the room sat Sage beside his bed, an unusual stillness enveloping him.
His typically lively demeanor was replaced by an introspective weight rarely seen by others.
Across from him stood Boren, his round figure nearly blocking the door. He clasped his hands awkwardly in front of him, as if bracing for reprimand instead of a private conversation.
