The morning sun was just brushing the stone arches of Kaelora as I stepped into the courtyard, my bow slung over my shoulder, quiver shifting lightly with every step. My muscles still ached—pleasantly this time, not like the ache of defeat I’d felt a month ago. I was stronger now. Steadier. Sharper. But each day felt different, like the air itself was testing me.
Fen was already there, standing a few paces ahead, his posture perfect, the mask of calm firmly in place. I couldn’t read him, not really—not after all that had happened. There was nothing in his blue eyes to hint at the night he had spent warding off creatures near the fissure, or the battles he had faced while I slept.
“Morning,” I said cautiously, adjusting the straps of my gear.
“Morning,” he replied, clipped, even, no warm
