The morning sun cast a hazy gold across the foggy village, yet the air felt anything but warm.
Mia remained asleep upstairs, her breathing shallow but even. In the rafters, a tiny bat clung to a crooked beam, Sith, in her disguised form, unmoving, ever watchful.
Downstairs, the inn was empty.
The fat innkeeper seemed like he had gone. So were the pale, beast-like villagers from the night before. Only silence remained, disturbed occasionally by the creaking of old wood and Kael's soft footsteps echoing along the deserted street.
He wore a simple travel cloak, hood drawn up. He didn't call on Ignis—his fearsome Tier-8 pegasus would only cause more fear. These people needed to see a harmless man, not a monster.
He knocked, door after door.
Most ignored him.
Some shouted through cracked wood to go away.
But he kept knocking.
And finally, one door creaked open.
