The world was still asleep when Cassian rose.
The tavern's upper hall was pitch-black, smelling faintly of stale ale and old oak. He dressed in silence, sliding his leather brigandine over his tunic and strapping his sword securely to his hip.
He needed steel at his side, because he intended to practice his forms once he found a spot.
He walked down the narrow stairs, the wooden steps groaning faintly beneath his boots. He was up early most times, but today he needed to be earlier. He had spent the entire night staring at the rafters, turning the problem over in his head, before reaching his final decision. If he wanted to recruit Amy, he needed to talk to her uninterrupted—away from the eyes of her host family and the noisy patrons of the shop. That meant catching her on her morning walk before she reached the tavern.
Outside, the air was sharp and cool. He navigated the quiet lanes until he reached the outskirts of her road. There was a clearing—a cluster of wild, overgrown trees flanking the dirt path she had taken home the night before. Cassian slipped into the tree line, the morning dew soaking the hem of his trousers as he pushed through the damp foliage. He found a spot deep enough in the brush to keep him completely obscured, yet close enough to grant him an unhindered view of anyone passing by.
The sky had turned a bruised shade of orange by the time he settled against the trunk of an old oak. He had been waiting for a while. A few early-rising townsfolk had already ambled past, forcing him to shrink deeper into the foliage to avoid suspicion.
Maybe she took a different path today.
Irritation began to gnaw at his patience. Maybe she isn't even working.
Then he saw her.
She was walking down the dirt track, her brown hair tied back, her blue eyes fixed entirely on the shifting morning clouds as if the rocky path beneath her feet didn't exist. She moved with that same dangerous, oblivious grace.
What is she even looking at?
"You see her, don't you?" Dea's voice drifted through his mind, calm and unbothered.
"Yes, Dea. Yes, I do."
"Just confirming."
Cassian waited until she passed his position before stepping out from the trees. He kept his footsteps light, trailing a few paces behind her on the path, expecting her to notice the crunch of gravel or the shift in the air. But she remained entirely lost in the sky.
"Amy?" he called out softly.
She flinched, her head jerking down as she spun on her heel to face him. Her striking blue eyes widened and she took a few steps back.
"Hello," he said smoothly.
"Y-you're the boy from yesterday," she stuttered, her hand resting against her chest.
"Cassian," he reminded her, taking two slow, measured steps toward her so as not to startle her further.
"What... what are you doing out here this early?" she asked, looking him up and down.
Training in the woods so the people hunting me don't slit my throat in my sleep
"Oh, just walking," he said, offering a mild shrug. "Mind if I walk with you?"
Amy hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head.
They set off down the path together. The silence between them grew heavy, almost suffocating. She kept her gaze fixed on her shoes, her posture stiff. Cassian gritted his teeth. He hated tension he couldn't control.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Dea whispered in his head, a trace of amusement in her tone.
"I'm getting to that," he snapped back silently.
"So," Cassian finally began, breaking the quiet. "Where are you headed?"
"Work," she replied, her voice soft.
"Have you been working there long?"
"Not really."
"I see." He glanced sideways at her. "Do you live around here?"
She gave a small nod, keeping her eyes glued to the dirt. She was making this far harder than it needed to be.
She remained silent for another hundred paces before finally asking, "What about you?"
There was a slight shift in the air. At least we're talking.
"I stay at a rooming house in the district, I suppose."
"You're not from around Solmere?"
"No."
"Where are you from, then?"
"Norrath."
Amy stopped in her tracks, raising her head to meet his gaze. Her clear blue eyes locked straight onto his. "The North?" she asked, as if Norrath could belong anywhere else on the map
.
"Yes," he said, stopping a step ahead of her.
She studied his face, her curiosity briefly breaking through her guarded reserve. "What are you doing all the way down south?"
"Well," Cassian said, offering a smile, "the sights down here are far more beautiful."
Amy turned her eyes back to the road as they resumed walking. "What is it like up there?" she asked quietly. "In Norrath?"
"It's... rigid," Cassian said after a moment
"Cold, sharp, and structured. If that makes any sense."
"Really?" She paused, before adding "What color is it?"
As soon as the words left her mouth, she clapped both hands over her lips, her cheeks turning bright red.
Cassian blinked, completely thrown off balance.
"What?"
"Just... just ignore that," she mumbled quickly into her palms, dropping her hands to her sides.
Cassian considered her for a second, genuinely amused by the absurdity of the question. "Well, if I had to give it a single color... I'd say white."
"Oh." She sounded almost disappointed, her shoulders slumping just a fraction.
Up ahead, the wooden roof of the tavern emerged over the crest of the hill. Time was running out. He couldn't reveal his true motives here in the open, nor could he force her, not now at least. He needed another window.
"Will you be working tomorrow?" Cassian asked, stopping near the edge of the marketplace. He'd just have to try again.
"Sure" she responded. That was all he needed to hear