The air inside the dimly lit tavern was thick with the scent of spiced ale, oil-lamp smoke, and the acrid bite of pipe tobacco. Laughter clashed with the clink of glasses, but beneath it, hushed whispers slithered through the room like an unseen current.
Against the far wall, a brass-rimmed clock loomed, its second hand ticking with mechanical precision. Twelve past noon. Yet in the muted glow, it felt closer to dusk.
No one seemed to notice.
In a secluded corner, two men sat in silence. One exhaled sharply. The other barely movedâhis expression eerily still, save for a slow blink.
Kael was patient. Waiting.
Ishar drummed his fingers against the scarred wooden table, his gaze flicking to the clock, then back to the man across from him. A frown ghosted his lips. "We barely made it out of that dungeon two days ago, and you're already diving back in?"
Kael's lips twitchedâalmost a smirk, but not quite. "You act surprised."
"Surprised? No. Irritated? Absolutely."
Kael let out a breath, something between a chuckle and a sigh. "It's not just talk."
Something in his tone made Ishar's frown deepen. "Orders?"
Kael gave a slow nod. "Governor wants us in. Tomorrow."
Ishar exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Who else?"
"The whole team. They're already briefed."
Ishar let the silence stretch between them, the tavern's clamor fading into the background. He studied Kael, searching for something beneath the calm exterior. The man was always difficult to read, but this felt... off.
"You sure about that?" Ishar finally asked.
Kael met his gaze evenly. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Ishar tapped a knuckle against the table, thoughtful. "It's too soon. Two days ago, we crawled out of that mess together. Now, suddenly, we're heading right back in? What changed?"
Kael's fingers flexed against the edge of the table, but his expression remained composed. "Nothing's changed. It's just how things lined up."
Ishar let out a short, humorless laugh. "Right. Just a coincidence."
Kael pushed back his chair. "See you tomorrow."
Ishar watched him stand, his movements heavier than usualâlike he was carrying something unsaid.
"â¦Yeah."
***
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Outside, the streets held a different weight. Unlike the rowdy warmth of the tavern, the townsfolk moved with a quiet urgencyâeyes downcast, steps brisk, unspoken fears thick in the air.
Then, cutting through the hush, a voice rang out.
A small crowd had gathered near the central pillarâan unusual sight in these times.
The massive stone column stretched high, disappearing into the cavernâs ceiling. Its surface was rough, worn by time, and covered in carvingsâsome ancient, some newly scratched prayers for protection.
A man at the base of the pillar raised his voice. "Pray to the virtue of purity, and salvation will come!"
Ishar barely spared him a glance.
"For those who pray for virtue," the man continued, fervent, "corruption shall not reach you."
His words faded into the background as Ishar walked on.
As he reached his small wooden house, he spotted someone waiting in front of itâsomeone he hadn't expected to run into today.
Vael.
Of all people.
She stood rigid, arms crossed, like sheâd rather be anywhere else. Usually, that was a feeling they shared.
"Lost?" Ishar drawled, barely slowing his steps. If she had come to gloat, criticize, or hand him another list of demands, he wasnât in the mood.
She didnât fire back. That was odd.
Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, her gaze flicked past him, scanning the streetâlike she was expecting someone. Or avoiding something.
Ishar's irritation simmered. "If you've got something to say, say it."
She hesitated. Her fingers curled slightly, tension flickering in her shoulders. Then, just as she opened her mouthâ
"Well, isnât this a rare sight?"
Ishar turned.
Rudrik strode toward them at an unhurried pace, his boots crunching softly against the dirt road.
His crossbow, ever-present, hung loosely over his shoulder, swaying slightly with each step. There was something deliberate in the way he movedânot casual, but not rushed either.
Vael stiffened.
Rudrikâs smirk didnât quite reach his eyes. "Didnât expect to see you two having a friendly chat."
Vael turned away, her lips pressing into a tight line. "Forget it."
She hesitatedâjust for a fraction of a second.
Her eyes flicked to Isharâs, meeting his gaze with an intensity that hadnât been there before. Not hesitation. Not indifference. Something else. Something that made Ishar's breath hitch for just a moment.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
She turned, her pace steady, precise.
"Waitâ" Ishar frowned, stepping forward. "What did you want to talk about?"
Vael didnât stop. A small shake of her head, and then she was gone.
Ishar watched her disappear down the road, irritation curling in his chest.
A moment of silence stretched between him and Rudrik before the latter let out a low hum.
"What was that about?"
Ishar exhaled through his nose. "No idea."
Rudrik clicked his tongue. "Maybe itâs her day."
Ishar gave a dry chuckle. "Vael? Having a day? Unheard of."
Rudrik smirked. "Well, if she ever wants to unravel that mystery, Iâm sure sheâll find her way back."
***
Kael took a fleeting glance at Ishar as he exited the tavern, his expression unreadable, the crisp evening air did little to clear the weight pressing against his thoughts. His footsteps were slow, measured, as he made his way through the dimly lit streets.
Eventually, he stopped before a modest home, its wooden exterior worn by time. Raising a fist, he knocked.
A pause.
Then, the door creaked open.
A woman stood before him, her white hair catching the flickering glow of a nearby lantern. Her sharp eyes locked onto him the moment he appeared, and for a brief second, something unspoken passed between them.
She was the first to break the silence.
"You invited him?"
Her voice was measured, but beneath the calm was something deeperâsomething tense, knowing.
Kael didnât answer right away. Instead, he gave a slow nod, his jaw tight.
Her fingers curled around the fabric of her robe, knuckles whitening. "Do we really have to do this?"
Kael held her gaze, his own unreadable. The weight of his decision settled heavily between them, unspoken yet undeniable.
He exhaled slowly, his next words quiet, as if he hated saying them.
"Itâs for the best."
Her lips parted as if to protest, but no words came. She simply stared at him, her grip tightening as the silence between them deepened.