The soft sound of dry leaves brushing against each other was the only thing breaking the silence of the inner courtyard.
Erian moved slowly, his body leaning forward, his hands carefully feeling along the ground. With each movement, his fingers probed the brittle texture of the branches, separating them from the stones and gathering them into a small pile at his side.
On the outside, he seemed calm, with a serene face and the patient demeanor of someone well-acquainted with his task. But inside, His heart raced, and his breath came short and restrained.
His savior was there.
Beside him.
Erian couldn't see him, but for days he had learned to tell when he was near. At first he couldn't be sure: everything in that temple felt strange, confusing, immense. The walls returned distorted echoes, the air shifted without warning, and every corner seemed made to deceive his senses.
But time had taught him to listen differently.
