The following morning, Saeko woke with sunlight streaming through the inn's small window, golden beams warming the worn wooden floorboards. For the first time in many days, she didn't rise with urgency or the itch of looming danger. The weight that usually settled in her chest like coiled steel was gone—at least for now.
She took a slow breath, letting it fill her lungs, and exhaled with a sense of clarity.
Today, there were no missions. No blades to draw. No blood to spill.
Today was hers.
After a quick wash and a modest breakfast of porridge and dried berries, Saeko stepped out into the streets of Rivermere with only her katana strapped to her back and a light cloak over her shoulders. The city opened before her like a living tapestry—alive, breathing, and humming with stories.
