The tavern slept, wrapped in the soft sighs of moonlight and the gentle creaks of old wood. Outside, crickets chirped in rhythm. Inside, silence reigned.
Until a floorboard creaked.
Kaelen froze mid-step.
He glanced around the dark hallway, eyes squinting, barefoot and clad in a loose tunic, moving with the grace of a thief but the desperation of an addict.
He tiptoed past the common room, avoiding the lantern-light that spilled faintly from the moonlit window. The kitchen door loomed ahead. And with it, the promise of salvation.
Please, gods, he prayed silently. Let there still be some left.
He opened the kitchen door slowly.
There was already someone there.
She stood frozen, half-crouched near the compost bin, hand reaching down like a child caught stealing fruit before dinner. Her eyes went wide, and she stumbled backward with a soft gasp, bumping into the cupboard. Her aura didn't flare, only her guilt did.
Kaelen blinked.
