He arrived in Bergen at six o’clock in the morning. The sky was still a deep indigo blue, and the outline of the mountains across the fjord loomed faintly in the dim light. The air was crisp and cold, carrying the scent of seawater and pine needles. Liam ate breakfast at a café near the pier—dark bread, smoked fish, and hot tea. The food was simple yet substantial, settling in his stomach with a primal sense of contentment.
The ferry to Ålesund wouldn’t depart for another two hours. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and wandered the dock area, watching fishing boats pull in to unload their catches and seagulls circle and cry overhead. Everything here was utterly foreign to the world he knew: no men in tailored suits hurrying by, no glass skyscrapers piercing the sky, no palpable ten
