......
...and hours past, were one to gaze outside.
But to one person, the time of day did not matter.
If one were to look into a particular stone-walled bedroom of Budehuc, you would see the personal effects and belongings of a man, including six-foot plus glaive propped against a wall, the metal and wood showing signs of recent use.
Turning toward the bed, you would see the glaive's owner, one Kyle of Lelcar, still abed though the day approached noon. Why, you might ask yourself?
Ah, he's still sleeping. The lines of his face are smooth, his breath slow and soft. He sleeps as though nothing disturbs his dreams any longer.
Cleansed. Whole. Peace.
At some dream, he smiles, his hand involuntarily clutching the stuffed frog, his Lantern, close.