The wheat. The field that Laurel first conjured -- it feels so much longer ago than two months. It's the thing Galahad remembers, and what he imagines Lan Wangji knows, so he sinks into himself the way he does when he's overwhelmed: when the weight of his estrangement from God falls upon him and his mind is silent and lonely; when the desire to do more than kiss Claudius takes over his body in a forest fire; when there are too many questions or questions he can't answer and all the words he'd grasp at slip through his fingers like water. He lets his body be a shell protecting the soft meat of himself. He stands in the middle of the field.