Another moment of silence passed. Then Garrick grabbed Kastor's shoulder.
"Brother."
Kastor finally turned towards him. The coldness in his eyes had faded, leaving behind something far more complicated.
"…it's not yet time."
"Not yet time?" Garrick barked out a laugh before jabbing a finger toward the crowd. "Look at them. Look at all these idiots. If this were twenty years ago, would any of them have dared come here and protest Calderalth?"
"How much longer are we supposed to tolerate this? What exactly are you waiting for?"
Kastor brushed his hand away and turned back towards the horizon.
There was something lonely about his back.
"…not yet."
Garrick stared at him. His eyes seemed capable of boring through steel.
"Well, while you wait, the Sarakhel are about to take someone from Zephyrion. You know… your son."
"Or did that slip your mind too?"
Kastor didn't respond.
