By the time the sun dipped behind Barcken's crooked rooftops, the streets were settling into that familiar evening calm—lanterns being lit, merchants closing their stalls, the worn chatter of people returning home. Luke and Ilyrana made their slow walk back to the inn perched above the tavern, their steps relaxed, their hands occasionally brushing, but neither said a word about it.
They had spent the entire day wandering—something they'd never done since arriving. They'd tasted food they couldn't even pronounce, browsed stalls selling charms swollen with superstition, and watched kids chase each other across the square with wooden toys. It wasn't a grand adventure, nothing like the fights and chaos they were used to. But the simplicity of it settled nicely between them, easing whatever awkwardness remained from the night before.
