That evening, Wei Xiang stood completely alone on the highest stone balcony of the Silver Leopard camp.
The cold mountain wind blew down from the snow-covered peaks above, whipping through his dark hair and tugging at his heavy travelling cloak as he stood looking toward the distant, towering walls of the Citadel.
The far-off lights of the fortress flickered like tiny, fragile fireflies against the pitch-black canvas of the night sky.
He had been standing there motionless for nearly an hour, his breath forming thin white clouds in the freezing air.
Wang eventually stepped outside through the heavy wooden doors, wrapped in a thick fur cloak, his boots crunching on the frost-covered stone floor.
"You'll freeze out here."
Wei Xiang didn't turn around to look at him.
"I'm fine. The cold clears my head when my thoughts get too noisy."
"You've been standing here staring at those walls since sunset."
"I'm thinking."
"About her?"
