Then everyone took permission to leave. They began drifting away in small clusters, clasping hands briefly or exchanging quiet nods. Shoulders were slumped, steps dragging against the stone floor as if the weight of the day pressed down on every joint. The air smelled faintly of damp earth and old incense from the mourning grounds, heavy and unmoving.
Ren lingered at the edge of the crowd, his gaze following the slow procession. A few of the councillors exchanged murmured words with the wounded before stepping into the fog that clung to the pathway. Lantern light swayed in the distance, casting long shadows that crawled over the ground.
Ervin's eyes followed the group until he noticed Ren turning to leave. His voice came low and steady.
"Ren, stop. I want to talk to you about something. You stay, everyone else can go."
