Hylisi returned home. She barred her door, lit a single lamp, and sat beside her sleeping son. For the first time in years, her shoulders loosened. No footsteps lingered outside. No shadows waited near the window.
That night, she slept deeply.
Not from exhaustion–but from safety.
Kiaria turned away without a word.
He did not look at Mu Long.
Did not acknowledge the Chief.
Both remained kneeling where they were, heads lowered, unmoving. The others understood without explanation. This was not punishment for today alone. This was penance–extended until meaning took root.
Kiaria walked back to his tent in silence.
He entered, drew the curtain closed, and finally released a slow, heavy breath. The kind that only escaped when vigilance was lowered by force, not choice.
Diala had been sitting alone, idly tracing patterns in the dirt with a twig. She looked up at him, eyes sharp despite the quiet.
