DYER

The day begins as it always does, plain and unremarkable.

The den wakes the way it always does, measured, disciplined, unremarkable. Guards stand at the gates. Apprentices cross the inner courtyard carrying ledgers and weapons in equal measure. The kitchens breathe out the familiar scent of bread and broth, grounding, ordinary, reliable.

I let myself move with it.

I train with the second patrol at dawn, correcting stances, testing reactions, listening more than I speak. Sweat, stone, ...