[Haldor's POV—Capital City of Eloria—Night]
The road beyond the capital narrowed into shadows.
Stone gave way to dirt, lanterns surrendered to moonlight, and the sound of the city—laughter, metal, life—faded behind us like a memory that did not wish to follow.
Zerith rode behind me in silence.
I did not turn, yet I felt him.
The way his horse matched my pace was too perfectly, the way his breathing remained steady, unhurried, the way his presence felt…Measured.
Not reckless.
Not careless.
Calculated.
We passed a fork in the road; I slowed my horse deliberately; he followed without hesitation. That was when I finally spoke asking, "How long have you known about Astreon?"
For a moment, he did not answer, but I saw it—his fingers tightening around the reins, knuckles pale beneath the moonlight.
"I was… curious," he said slowly. "About an empire that never meddled in others' affairs. An empire that chose isolation over influence."
I turned my head slightly.
