With a casual flick of her wrist, the water mirror collapsed into drifting droplets before vanishing entirely. The mage rose into the air once more, her form lifting effortlessly skyward. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
Or so it seemed.
Mei knew better.
All of them did.
The mage's presence never fully disappeared, it merely thinned, retreating high into the clouds. From above, concealed by altitude and mist, she continued to shadow the caravan, watching, waiting.
The carriages rolled forward again, wheels creaking softly against the road as they approached the border wall. To maintain appearances, conversation resumed among the caravan's escorts, idle chatter about trade routes, weather, and noble gossip. Meaningless babble, carefully chosen to fit their supposed status.
Not one of them dared to reestablish the mental link.
An hour passed like a held breath.
Then, at last, they reached the border.
