After my "study session" with Wannre ended, I found myself wandering aimlessly along the endless expanse of the Silver Sea surrounding the palace.
There was nothing specific on my mind, yet inside, a hurricane of thoughts churned and spun without direction. It was the kind of mental noise that felt like silence, but heavier—like the still air before a thunderstorm. And above all else, Wannre's words refused to leave me alone.
"Be comfortable in your own presence."
A single, simple sentence. Ordinary, almost casual. Yet, for some reason, it struck me with the force of a hammer against brittle glass. It unsettled me, left me oddly helpless and confused.
It shouldn't have meant anything. On the surface, it was just a platitude—one of those vague, well-meaning phrases teachers and mentors like to throw around.
