Liam sat leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, his breathing slow enough that the room seemed to have accepted him as part of its stillness.
The desk before him remained covered in the organized remains of his thoughts. The Bastion Assessment guide sat closed now, weighed down by his personal book and several pieces of parchment filled with notes about arrival zones, regrouping procedures, Veyrhold phases, shadow deployment, threat patterns, communication failures, and the kind of avoidable stupidity that had a habit of becoming everyone's problem.
Outside the window, daylight had shifted without his permission. The sharper brightness of noon had softened, stretching into the warmer, duller tones that came before dusk, though Liam had not noticed any of it after his mind finally gave in to rest.
Within that light unconscious state, he felt a tap on his forehead.
It was light. Barely more than a touch.
His eyes snapped open.
