A coordinated falling motion was better than Gene could pull off, some days. Today was a good day, and he sat down across from Kane with no apparent issues or distress. But at least Kane had sat down. Gene had not been looking forward to trying to force him to sit, especially not if his knees locked in protest against the coerced movement.

Gene watched him, his own hands folded on the table, shaking off the specter of his own past by breathing deeply and focusing on what was real, trying to tell himself five truths. My name is Temujin. I am in Keeliai. I am twenty years old. I have been here for three years. He cannot hurt me anymore.

He reached up for his neck and tugged down on the necklace underneath his shirt, as though to remind himself it was still there. He wouldn't count the rings now, but if the string was still there the rings would be too. He almost missed Kane pressing against his chest; not the right place for his heart. Was he remembering an injury he'd taken, or something else?