The days that followed the correction of the natural formation were strangely monotonous.
The caravan advanced along the old road without further incident. The landscape changed gradually, tall pines giving way to arid hills and then to the plains bordering the Scarlet Domain.
The initial tension among the guards, who had expected an attack at any moment, slowly dissolved into the routine of travel.
During their passage near the border, nothing unexpected occurred, no one was sighted from the other side, and no bandit groups disturbed them.
This only confirmed that the anomaly from before had indeed been the cause of the disappearances.
Kyrian, however, sank into an even deeper silence in those final days.
His eyes, once always focused ahead and around, ever alert, now often drifted away, fixating instead on the palm of his right hand.
There, the mark, the silver fragment of the erratic core, remained, carrying a residual sense of connection to something unknown.
