Another month slipped by, quiet on the surface yet heavy beneath it.
Kaeya emerged from the edge of Tyler's territory just before dawn, her boots barely disturbing the dew-soaked grass. The forest parted for her as if accustomed to her presence. A man knelt before her, his head bowed low, his form wrapped in a shadowed cloak that drank in the morning light. This time, he did not bother hiding. In his hands rested a sealed scroll.
He presented it with both palms raised, reverent.
Kaeya accepted it without a word and broke the seal immediately, her eyes moving swiftly across the lines. The seriousness on her face deepened with every breath she took.
Unbeknownst to them—or perhaps known all too well—Tyler was already there.
He sat casually atop the wooden fence that marked the boundary of his land, one leg dangling, the other hooked comfortably over a beam. A blade of grass hung between his fingers as he watched the scene unfold like a spectator enjoying a familiar play.
