Durbar was like a leaf floating in a breeze. He had been falling ever since his arrest in Stena, but was unable to control where he would finally crash. Instead others pushed him and pulled him like a wind. He twirled around and around not knowing any longer which way he faced, nor in which direction he was traveling. Neither did he know who was with him. He was lost. Whisked away from everything he knew. Like the leaf that falls to the ground, it all began when he let go of the branch. He left his cabin and all he knew, and he had not regained assurance since. Only briefly had he felt secure and confident in his future, but every time he did another gust of wind blows him off course. It was hopeless, so he resigned himself to his current situation—lying on his back in a room that housed assassins for Lady Verayzija. It was not where he hoped to be, but as usual, he had little choice.