He replayed the kite. The sun. The green hill. He tried to feel the weight of the string in his hand. He tried to hear the wind. He tried to say the name.
The designation was . No vowels. Just the hard consonants, like a door slamming shut.
Crstn opened his eyes. For the first time, they weren't empty. A spark of something old and dangerous flickered in their depths. He looked down at the restraints around his wrists. He had broken steel doors. He could break these.