It had been answered by trusting the one thing in him that had never once needed to be certain to be right.

The fight is over. Sals stands in the torchlight, sword lowered, breathing hard. He did not solve what was in front of him by working it out step by step. He did not wait until he felt sure. The conundrum that had pressed against him found its answer somewhere quieter than thought — in something he carried that had always known its own direction, without ever needing to be certain first.

That is a strange thing to sit with. Most of us have been taught that certainty should come before action. We wait for it. We chase it. We stall when it won't arrive. But there is something else in you — older, steadier — that does not run on certainty at all. It has guided you before, probably in moments you still can't fully explain. You acted, and it was right, and you didn't know why until later, if ever.

You don't have to name it or understand it to use it.

What is one thing in you that has led you well, even when you had no proof it would?