Location:Obsidian Academy — Headmaster's Office
Date/Time:Mid Cinderfall, 9939 AZI — Afternoon
Realm:Lower Realm
Qin's office smelled like ink and poor decisions.
Not bad decisions — poor ones. The kind made by a man who cared more about what he was reading than where he put it down, who treated flat surfaces as suggestions rather than boundaries, and who had apparently waged a decades-long war against the concept of filing. Scrolls towered in stacks that defied structural analysis. Student reports occupied a chair that might once have been intended for visitors but had long since been conscripted as furniture for paperwork. Three teapots sat on the desk — one steaming, one lukewarm, one that had fossilised into an archaeological artefact sometime around the beginning of the current century.
