Darion lay on his new mattress, staring at the ceiling. The bed was comfortable. Much more comfortable than the old one.
The mattress was soft but supportive, the frame sturdy and solid, the blankets warm and clean. It was everything he had wanted when he ordered the renovations. Everything he had worked for.
But despite that, Darion barely slept.
He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to quiet, his thoughts circling the same dark track over and over.
Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts returned to the same thing. Vrethka. The two scouts. The perspective glasses. The way they had been watching Percvale. Their confidence. Their mention of the war they had just won. And most importantly, their intention to attack.
They're coming.
He turned onto his side, punching the pillow into a different shape. He tried to convince himself that there was still time. Maybe the attack wouldn't happen immediately.
