The road bent eastward as night deepened.
Kael walked without hurry, his steps measured, his presence folded inward. At eighteen, he had already learned that speed attracted attention far faster than strength ever did. Stillness confused people. Movement invited explanation.
He preferred confusion.
The land opened gradually, the ravine giving way to a stretch of rolling ground where the wind moved freely again. He felt lighter here. Less observed.
Behind him, the settlement receded into darkness.
Inside it, the woman still stood by the window.
The crest at her shoulder was small, almost discreet—etched into a silver clasp rather than displayed on fabric. Three intersecting lines, forming a closed triangle.
A house that specialized in containment.
Not enforcement. Not expansion.
Control.
"The anomaly left," the man beside her reported.
"I know," she replied.
"You're certain he's worth watching?"
Her gaze never shifted from the road beyond the settlement. "Worth not touching."
That earned a pause.
"Unregistered, unarmed, adaptive," she continued calmly. "Pressure doesn't behave around him the way it should. That isn't coincidence."
The man frowned. "Then why not act?"
"Because deviation doesn't reveal itself under force," she said. "It reveals itself when the world pushes back."
She turned away from the window.
"If he survives long enough," she added, "he'll cross paths with something that doesn't care about house borders."
That ended the discussion.
Far from the settlement, Kael slowed as the hum within him shifted again—not sharper, not louder. Just… closer.
He stopped.
The night air felt heavier here, carrying the faint scent of stone and damp earth. Ahead, the road narrowed where the ground dipped into another shallow pass.
Kael exhaled and adjusted his stance.
Eighteen years of living carefully had taught him this much:
The world didn't push all at once.
It tested first.
And somewhere ahead, the next test was waiting.