Third Person POV:
Sleep come slowly that night.
Lincoln lay on his bed in the guest room of the Citadel, wide awake and just staring at the ceiling where light from the repaired barrier shine through the glass. He should have to feel safe. The barrier was restored, the Legion kept at bay, his friends are alive. Yet even in silence, his mind would not lie still.
He had discovered too much—and too little.
The warning of the Council still lingered in his mind. One of their own had admitted them. The thought that betrayal lay under their bond torment him. And beneath that, something older, something more ancient, murmured in his veins like a memory he never experienced.
Ignivar lay beside the chimney, its feathers dull, ticking slowly like an expiring clock.
"Don't you ever sleep?" Linc
