The land beyond the boundary did not welcome Aurelia.
It did not reject her either.
That unsettled her more than hostility ever could.
She moved steadily through the low brush as dawn bled slowly across the horizon, the air cooler here, thinner somehow—less shaped by habit, less worn smooth by repeated claim. Each step felt unmeasured, as though the ground itself had not yet decided what she was.
The bond beneath her skin shifted subtly—not guiding, not warning.
Listening.
Aurelia slowed near a shallow rise and scanned the valley ahead. No patrol markers. No sentry stones. No signs of enforced order. Just old paths that had been used, abandoned, then used again by those who did not bother naming them.
This was not unclaimed land.
It was unkept.
She exhaled slowly and continued.
By midmorning, the silence changed.
Not broken—but shared.
