Lassim pushed open the door to his small room in the initiate-ranked disciples' residence, his thoughts of annoyance slightly lingered on the meeting with the sect's War Council. The wooden door creaked slightly as it closed behind him, sealing away the outside world.
He took a moment to let out a long breath, allowing the tension to defend himself, but also not give away his full secrets, that had built up during the meeting to drain away.
As he sat on the edge of his bed, Lassim reached into his magic pouch and pulled out his communication disc.
The small, smooth object glowed faintly in his hand, its surface swirling with tiny motes of light.
He had noticed in the meeting that there were several missed messages waiting for him, each marked by a tiny rune symbol hovering above the disc next to their contact's names.
Lassim's eyes softened as he looked at the symbols of those who had sent him messages.
