The call came in the dark hour before dawn.
Aiden was already awake when the soft knock sounded at his door. He had been lying still for some time, listening to the quiet of the temple corridors and running through the checklist one more time in his head.
The knock was expected. He rose, dressed quickly in the practical layers set aside the night before—travel leathers, the heavier cloak for the northern cold, the knife and cipher case at his belt. Everything was where it needed to be. He checked the seals on the case by touch, then stepped into the corridor.
Outside, the others were already moving with the same economy. No raised voices. No wasted motion. Boots on stone, the soft clink of buckles, the occasional low word about a girth or a strap. The air held the chill that came just before first light.
