Navir perched on the edge of the building's roof, forearms resting on his thighs as the sun bled into the horizon, washing the city below in fading amber light.
"So… that's it," Ardavan said, pacing. "You spark, you get counted."
Navir didn't look up. "They were counting already."
"You don't know that," Ardavan replied.
"I do," Navir replied. His smooth voice carried no anger. "Every answer I find sharpens their focus."
Ardavan leaned against the doorframe. "You could stop," he said quietly. "Let it fade."
Navir exhaled a short laugh. "Fading has become a privilege."
Ravash, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes steady. "It's proof," he said quietly. "What you know changes you."
"It brands you," Navir said. He flexed his hands, veins standing out. "It's like… ignorance keeps you safe."
"Laying low, that's how you survive," Ravash replied.
Silence settled.
Ardavan spoke carefully. "If you keep going, you'll be seen."
"I've already been spotted." Navir said, his pulse spiking, the crescent beneath his bicep darkening.
Ravash frowned. "Then why keep pushing?"
Navir kept his gaze down, briefly lost in thought.
"No," he said, lifting his gaze, his crimson eyes catching the sunset as he rose.
Slow.
Deliberate.
"I won't shrink myself… to make them comfortable," he said, tightening his fist, leaving his veins taut in resolve.
Ravash and Ardavan standing behind Navir, walked a few paces in his direction towards the edge of the building.
The evening breeze blew Navir's hair, Ravash's robe and Ardavan's scarf, whispering of an incoming symbolic storm.
Staying ignorant was no longer a choice.
Navir stood leaning against the palm tree, the evening sun casting long shadows across the sand.
A soft scrape across the dirt floor of the courtyard drew his attention.
Nimi appeared a few paces behind him, her gaze steady. "I thought I'd find you here," she said.
Navir's eyes flicked to her briefly, cold, calculating, but beneath the icy assessment, a trace of warmth lingered. He said nothing.
The glance cut deeper than she expected. "Navir," she drawled, eyes looking sorrowfully void. Her throat tightened. "I'm… sorry," she whispered, stepping closer.
"After what happened to Mehrak, I thought keeping a distance would protect us."
Navir didn't respond. His jaw tightened, gaze fixed on the horizon.
Nimi's lips trembled. Tears welled, spilling silently. She turned away, shoulders shaking with quiet grief.
Without warning, Navir's arms circled her from behind, firm yet careful. "I forgive you," he murmured into her hair.
Startled, she froze, then slowly turned, their eyes meeting. She hugged him back, her head melted to his chest, clinging to the warmth she'd missed.
The morning breeze cut sharply through the rising light, tugging at loose dust along the rooftops as the sun crept over the city's edge.
Tarefin stood at the building's ledge, elbow resting against the vertical wall, cheek propped in his palm. His moderately long hair stirred in the wind, brushing the collar of his loosely buttoned shirt-dress, the upper fastenings left undone as if he'd dressed without thinking.
"Strange," he murmured, eyes fixed on the open expanse beyond the city.
"I don't understand," Navir said, standing a few paces behind him. Anxiety edged his curiosity, his fingers flexing at his sides.
"You survived," Tarefin replied, glancing sideways. "Even when your marking was critical."
"You literally pulled me out of the wasteland," Navir replied, his eyes etched with skepticism.
"I didn't know how critical your marking was," Tarefin admitted, finally turning fully toward him.
"What does that even mean?"
"They're not hunting you," Tarefin said quietly. "If they were, you wouldn't be standing here."
"Then what are they doing?"
Tarefin exhaled, one hand slipping into his pocket as the other gestured faintly. "It means you're being evaluated."
Navir's breath hitched.
"They're deciding if you're worth guiding… or ending," Tarefin replied.
"You sound unsure."
"I am," Tarefin said, lowering his voice. "Hesitation among time-readers is rare."
"How rare?" he replied.
"Once… in a few centuries, maybe." He turned away.
Navir swallowed. "So… I'm a question?"
"Exactly." Tarefin nodded.
That night, on arriving home, Navir stopped short outside his home.
Something caught his attention.
The symbol of an eye carved into the wall.
Fresh.