Shadows stretched across the village square, long and dark. The temperature dropped fast. The air was dry and brittle, carrying dust even at night.
Kael remained on the low wall, sword across his lap. He watched the dead forest to the west. The blackened trees stood motionless, skeletal branches reaching toward the darkening sky.
The villagers had retreated into their homes. Doors closed. Shutters latched. The square emptied.
Except for the woman.
She sat in the center, still rocking the bundle of cloth and straw. Still humming.
Footsteps approached from behind.
Kael glanced back.
The old man walked over, slower now, favoring his left leg. He carried a clay jug in one hand and two wooden cups in the other. He stopped a few paces away.
"Mind if I sit?"
Kael gestured to the space beside him.
