The knock came just before dawn, exactly the way it had the morning before.
Three soft taps on the guest house door. Polite. Patient. Unhurried.
Jin was already standing in the central hall, dressed and waiting, his pale robe tied neatly at the waist and both swords strapped close against his side beneath it. The iron rosary was looped twice around his left wrist, hidden under his sleeve. The folded war fan was tucked into the cord at his back. The others stood around him in the dim lantern light, all of them in their pale dawn robes, all of them very quiet.
Nobody had slept. Nobody had even tried.
Jin looked around at them one last time. Seul, standing straight and still, her jaw set. Joon, his spheres tucked up his sleeves, resting against his forearms. Echo, leaning against the wall with his eyes half closed, listening to everything. Yerin, her hands folded calmly in front of her. Yuna, standing at Yerin's side, her hands jammed in her pockets, her face pale and fierce.
