The land dipped gently and rose again.
Nothing sharp.
Nothing demanding.
Kael walked without counting steps.
That felt important.
Lira matched his pace, the bond quiet between them—not silent, just at rest.
"You know," she said,
"I used to think calm meant something bad was coming."
Kael understood.
Because calm was always temporary.
She nodded.
"Now it just feels… earned."
They passed a small stream barely wide enough to step over.
Clear water.
No signs of use.
Kael paused only long enough to make sure the crossing didn't damage the bank.
Then they moved on.
Sera watched him.
"You always check the land," she said.
"Even when nothing's wrong."
Kael's intent was simple.
Because it doesn't need to be wrong to deserve care.
That settled over the group.
By midday, the clouds thinned further, letting warmth through.
They rested beneath open sky.
Kael sat first.
Lira joined him.
The others followed without thought.
Jon stretched and laughed quietly.
"I almost forgot what boredom felt like."
Lira smiled.
"That's not boredom," she said.
"That's peace learning how to exist."
They didn't talk long.
They didn't need to.
When they stood and continued, the day didn't resist them.
No tests appeared.
No decisions demanded urgency.
Just walking.
And that, Kael realized, was the real change.
Not surviving.
Not resisting.
Living without being shaped by fear.
As evening came, they found a place to rest.
No reason beyond comfort.
Kael sat, watching the horizon darken.
Lira leaned against him.
"Tomorrow will probably look like this," she said.
Kael felt no need to argue.
Good.
Because when days become ordinary.
That's when freedom stops feeling fragile.
And starts feeling real.