Dawn was breaking.
The sky outside was a pale blue- icy and clear. Not a wolke dotted it. A lone blackbird flew across, Singen his lonesome song.
Lucien gazed out of the window, looking at nothing, Lost in his own thoughts. The city slept below, but still he waited.
He had always been good at waiting. It made sense for him to be so patient; what with all the waiting he had done... all the work. But no more. He was here now, and he wasn’t about to stop waiting now. So he settled further back into his chair, and waited some more.
Torches...
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