A knock came at the door, measured, deliberate. Ren tensed, shadows flickering at his call, but when he opened it Kaelen stood waiting. The man's face was calm as ever, though his eyes carried the same weight as the parchment in Ren's hand.
"You've begun to notice," Kaelen said. He stepped inside without waiting, his presence steady enough to mute the restless shadows around Ren. "The city does not hide its factions from those who know where to look. It shows them, piece by piece, like bait."
Ren set the parchment on the table. "And the bait is for me."
"Not only you," Kaelen replied. He studied the folded slip briefly before looking back. "Every storm that touches this land leaves behind survivors, and survivors gather. Some groups prepare for what is coming. Others try to shape it. Verathane has always been both refuge and forge, but in times like this, it becomes something else. A crucible."
