Zephyr leaned over the drawing room table. Over it was stacks of papers, letters, and some from books were contained inside. His brows kitted together, and his hands clenched to fists on the table. Where was this man? There was no traces. Zephar's hand reached into the pile and scattered the papers with a frustrated grunt. Taking a break he turned on his heel and treaded down the hall, eventually stopping at the training room where talking echoed. The door flung open with a creak. "Hello?"
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