The first thing Damien wanted when he returned to their base was silence.
The weight of the forest still clung to him — the smell of sap and blood, the echo of beastly roars — yet Delwig's air felt heavier, not lighter.
The cobblestone streets hummed faintly with mana lines running beneath them, and every guard's stare lingered a moment too long as he passed. Or maybe it was just paranoia. He couldn't quite conclude which it was.
When he reached their quarters, the front door creaked open before he even knocked. Arielle stood there, her hair unbound, a rare sign that she hadn't slept well. Lyone hovered behind her, his usual sharp tone softened by relief.
"Finally," Arielle exhaled. "You're back."
Damien managed a faint smirk. "You sound like you doubted I would be."
"I didn't," she replied, folding her arms. "Lyone did."
The boy scoffed. "You were gone a whole day and night and then almost another day and night. That's long enough to worry."
