As the oppressive atmosphere thickened around him, Lucas lifted his eyes only slightly, meeting the Sage's gaze for a fleeting heartbeat.
It was a mistake.
The moment their eyes met, Lucas felt as though something ancient had looked directly into his soul, peering through every layer of calm, seeing past his practiced restraint, unearthing thoughts he didn't know were visible. The Sage's gaze held no malice, no overt threat, yet it was so profoundly deep, so ancient in its weight, that it felt like the man was a mountain watching a blade of grass.
A chill raced down Lucas's spine.
His instincts flared in silent alarm, and he instantly bowed his head low in deference, refusing to meet those piercing eyes again.
"Forgive me, Sage," Lucas said softly, his voice calm, yet entirely respectful. "I greet you humbly."
Then, unexpectedly, the Sage smiled.
