By midday, the worst of the chaos had settled into something quieter, more solemn, like the particular hush that follows survival rather than triumph.
Kael found Lira near the grain store, helping Lina change a bandage on a young defender's arm. She hadn't seen him yet, her focus entirely on steady, careful hands, though exhaustion had carved deep shadows beneath her eyes.
"Lira."
She turned, and whatever composure she'd been holding together cracked instantly at the sight of him.
She crossed the distance between them in three quick strides and threw her arms around him, careless of the blood and grime still clinging to his clothes.
"I saw you at the breach," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "and then the fighting pulled everyone in different directions, and I didn't know if—" She pulled back, gripping his arms as if to reassure herself he was solid. "I didn't know if you'd made it through."
"I did," Kael said. "Barely."
