A Measure of Breath

Consciousness arrived without sound. My gaze unlocked from the stone hieroglyphs etched across the wall before me. I paused, assessing the perimeter. My right hand, rigid for so long, responded to intent; fingers curled, grazing the raised gold relief along the throne's armrest. Beside me sat an unmoving green figure, fixed in silent vigil. I tightened my grip on the carved seat, confirming the weight and balance of each joint, then settled back into posture—deliberate, steady, and watchful.