The Caravan Beneath the Emerald Canopy
Some days passed peacefully in Nagarath.
Quiet moments carried their own risks. Stillness often hid what waited beneath.
Silence hung heavy, though not quiet. Stillness stirred without rest. Quiet unfolded, yet tension pulsed beneath.
Nothing blew up - that was all it showed.
Beyond the stone barrier, unease tightened - silent, waiting. A breath held too long stretched across the fields.
Foot by foot, the Skyfall Kingdom pushed farther north, its weight growing like frost at dawn. Eyes of returning scouts held a quiet dread, while their words carried odd patterns - movements too sharp for custom, exercises stretching past reason, wagons rolling in without clear need. Across the flatlands, something was taking shape. Not defense. Something else.
Something about them felt like the start of a takeover.
A silence hung where flags might have flown.
No horns sounded.
Few riders left camp carrying warnings instead of words.
