Theo

I knew something was off the moment we stepped inside the hockey pitch, not necessarily the wind and ice sculptures which I couldn't guess properly whose property had been ruined. It was something else. The floodlights were off but the courtyard was illuminated by the track poles which were, well not enough illumination.

In the middle of the pitch, I could make out two familiar figures — Camden and Cassian but they weren’t alone. They were holding someone. This was definitely a ...