(The Eternal Garden, Veyr's POV)
For a long while, neither Veyr nor Kaelith spoke.
The wind moved between them in soft spirals, carrying the salt of the distant sea and the faint rustle of the golden leaves, yet even nature seemed to hesitate in the shadow of the two standing within the garden's heart.
Kaelith's gaze lingered on Veyr in silence, not as a captor studying a prisoner, but as something far colder, like a sculptor examining a cracked statue, unsure whether to repair it or let it shatter completely.
Veyr could feel it, that unsettling stillness behind the Great God's eyes.
There was no hatred, no pity, not even interest, only an unnerving curiosity, the kind that made him wonder whether Kaelith saw him as a man at all, or merely a toy to amuse himself with.
When the God finally spoke, his voice was quiet enough that it almost blended with the sea.
