The morning sun slipped gently through the veil of mist that clung to Vernara's ridges.
Khael stirred awake, the warmth of the woven straw mat beneath him already fading as he sat up. The others were gone, he could hear the faint hum of Shinrei outside, echoing like a song being sung without words.
He stepped out of the guest house.
And immediately sighed.
Ceyla was locked in a fast-paced skirmish with Juno—dirt kicking up beneath their feet, crackles of storm energy flashing as Ceyla wielded twin daggers with sharp arcs of wind and lightning. Juno, ever grounded, held a defensive stance from the Taishin Path, his body shifting with controlled movements like stone flowing under pressure.
On a nearby log sat Lin, watching them with wide, curious eyes.
"Hey, hey… what's going on here?" Khael called, raising a brow.
Ceyla didn't even glance at him, her dagger grazing Juno's shoulder—though clearly pulled just before it could cut.
