Edrin did not turn his back on the stranger.
He adjusted his stance slightly, keeping a careful distance between them. The forest road was narrow, trees pressing close on both sides. If the man intended harm, this was not a place Edrin wanted to be careless.
"You followed me," Edrin said. "That means you want something."
The stranger nodded. "Eventually."
"That's not an answer."
"No," the man agreed. "But it's an honest one."
Edrin studied him closely. The man's posture was relaxed, but not careless. His weight was balanced, his hands visible, his breathing steady. He was not a bandit. He was not an ordinary traveler either.
"What do you want?" Edrin asked again.
"To confirm something," the man replied. "And if I'm wrong, I'll leave."
"And if you're right?"
The man smiled faintly. "Then I'll still leave. Just with better understanding."
Edrin felt unease crawl up his spine.
"Confirm what?" he asked.
"That you survived something you weren't supposed to."
Silence followed.
Edrin felt the familiar tension in his chest. Not pain. Awareness.
"People survive unlikely things all the time," Edrin said.
"Yes," the man replied calmly. "Once."
Edrin's eyes narrowed.
"Twice is coincidence," the man continued. "Three times becomes noticeable."
"You've been counting?" Edrin asked.
"I listen," the man said. "And I remember."
That answer carried weight.
Edrin exhaled slowly. "Then you already know enough."
"Not quite," the man replied. "I know there was a survivor at Greyhaven. I know someone drowned near Branford and walked away. I know there are no bodies where bodies should exist."
The man met Edrin's gaze directly.
"What I don't know," he said, "is whether you understand what that means."
Edrin did not respond.
The man studied his expression, then nodded slightly. "You don't."
That irritated Edrin more than the words themselves.
"And you do?" he asked.
"I know what it looks like," the man replied. "An inconsistency."
Edrin shifted his weight. "That's a dangerous word to use."
"Yes," the man agreed. "Which is why I won't use it again."
He stepped back, increasing the distance between them.
"My name is Halvern," he said. "I keep records. Old ones. Broken ones. The kind most people don't bother with."
Edrin did not give his own name.
Halvern did not seem to expect it.
"You don't need to trust me," Halvern continued. "You shouldn't. But you should know this."
He glanced briefly at the forest around them.
"You're not the only one who's noticed anymore."
Edrin felt his stomach tighten.
"Who else?" he asked.
Halvern shook his head. "Not yet. That knowledge comes with consequences."
He paused, then added, "But you should move carefully. And avoid repeating the same mistake."
"What mistake?" Edrin asked.
Halvern's gaze flicked toward the distant road leading back to Branford.
"Letting the world see you fail to die."
With that, Halvern turned and walked away.
He did not hurry.
He did not look back.
Edrin remained standing on the forest road long after the man disappeared.
His breathing was steady. His heartbeat controlled.
That frightened him more than panic ever could.
Someone had noticed.
And that meant surviving quietly was no longer enough.