Irritation.
That was all Zephyr felt as he stared at the crowd. But his irritation wasn't directed at them—instead, it clawed at the side of his face, thumping in sync with every pulse of his heart beat was his right eye.
It was maddening.
Like a second heartbeat had taken residence behind the bandages.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
He exhaled slowly, trying to force calm. But it was like trying to quiet a drum by glaring at it.
How would anyone feel waking up to find their eye beating?
At first, he thought it was phantom pain or nerves. Then the sensation had grown—steady, rhythmic, alive. Merin, ever her calm self, had only offered a nod and muttered something about "Heaven fragment"— whatever that means, and how she'd reinforce the seal.
She did. She even added two more coils of Aether seal that was laced with sigil ash. Promised that the thumping would dull.
And it did.
