Kael didn't slow until the ravine was far behind him.
Only then did his body collect its debts.
The pain arrived in layers—dull ache first, then sharper reminders where bone and muscle protested movement they hadn't agreed to. His shoulder burned steadily, every swing of his arm pulling heat through damaged tissue. Breathing came easier than it had after the gate, but not clean.
He adjusted his pace anyway.
Stopping completely was worse.
The silence inside him remained withdrawn, coiled so tightly it felt like holding breath too long. It didn't resist him now. It simply refused to answer unless absolutely necessary.
That was new.
Kael understood the message.
He'd pushed it too often. Too close together. Whatever the silence truly was, it wasn't meant to be forced repeatedly without recovery. It wasn't mana. It wasn't stamina.
It was tolerance.
He reached a shallow stream by late afternoon and knelt, bracing himself on a rock as he washed blood from his side. The water ran clear again quickly, but the ache remained. He pressed his fingers along his ribs carefully.
Nothing broken.
Cracked, maybe.
He'd be slower for a while.
Kael sat back against the stone and closed his eyes.
For the first time since leaving the basin, he allowed himself to rest.
The world didn't reward him for it.
Movement stirred on the far side of the stream.
Kael opened his eyes immediately.
Not attackers.
Animals.
Small, skittish shapes darted between rocks, pausing only long enough to look at him before fleeing. Their reaction wasn't fear.
It was avoidance.
Kael frowned slightly.
Even without invoking silence, something about him was registering now. A residue, maybe. Not power.
Aftereffect.
He stood slowly and continued walking, following the stream until it curved away from his path. The land ahead grew rougher, broken by old stone and shallow ruins half-swallowed by earth.
Not a settlement.
Not a gate.
A place people used to pass through—and stopped.
Kael slowed again.
If the man in the ravine had been telling the truth, then what happened there would ripple outward. Not immediately. Not loudly.
But enough to narrow options.
Kael needed time.
And more importantly, he needed something he could rely on when silence wasn't enough.
He didn't know what that would be yet.
But he could feel the direction forming.
Not toward a house.
Not toward authority.
Toward places like this.
Forgotten routes. Old structures. Things left behind because they no longer fit the world's rules.
Kael stepped into the ruins without hesitation.
Whatever waited there wouldn't care who was watching him.
And that made it honest.