When Ciprian finally arrived at the Branch of Logic, the night had just begun to drain from the sky. The stars still judged him, but soon the hazy indigo that crept up from the horizon would turn to dawn and erase them from his sight.
Maybe then he would be able to think more clearly.
He knew the Creature hadn't left him completely, but its distraction with whatever it was doing outside of his head gave him a few hours alone with his anger.
Ciprian didn't know what infuriated him more. That Alaric would dare to keep him out of his own Core Compound and away from his daughter, or that Rowan had rewoven the fabric of the woods between the Branches so they fought against him with every step he took. He had to forcefully pin reality in place under his feet with his magic just so he wouldn't end up walking in circles.
